Desolate Wolf
by Chongryong
Summary: This is the story of Eniah, an OC champion from the Sablestone Mountains following the events of Kalamanda and other adventures in the League. Set M for violence and mature themes, mainly a precaution.
1. Chapter 1: A New Home

**Author's Note and Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends, nor am I related to Riot Games Inc. in any way other than that of a loyal fan and customer. I am writing to do something semi-productive over the summer. The story follows the relationships of various members of the League and an OC, Eniah. I will do my best to remain accurate to the Journal of Justice publications and the champion lore.**

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Chapter 1

Demacia has always been a city of white marble and shinning glass that reflected the supposed moral purity of its denizens, but even Eniah could see that today of all days was special. The hushed silence of disbelief and admiration from those just inside of its walls that rapidly turned to widespread fanfare welcomed him to his new home. As they walked further inside, the crowds made way for their party, the news of that man's return after two long years rushing before them like wildfire. A giant of a man clad in the blue and gold armor of Demacia's Dauntless Vanguard met them at the palace gates. Drawing his claymore, he swung it forward and instantly silenced the crowds with the most dominating pressure Eniah had ever sensed in a human. Shyvana released a low growl and Eniah's hands instinctively went for his twin kris only to be stilled by one of the three others of their group.

After a moment, the Vanguard plunged his sword into the earth and knelt, revealing a blonde girl of about seventeen, Eniah's age, who was undoubtedly standing behind her brother. He looked over at the hybrid and saw the same look of shock: neither of them, despite instinct and training that would shame the greatest hunters in Valoran, had sensed her presence. She was clad in white and gold, twirling a shimmering baton that seemed to somehow dance with the sunlight playing between her fingers, hiding a different type of danger than the piercing thrust of a sword. _Different, but not any better_, he thought. Committing her essence to memory, he gave her another once-over and could not deny her charm. Caught in her eyes, he missed the first bit of conversation.

"... come back now? After two years? Where..."

"The story can wait, my friend, for private ears." Raising his voice so all could hear, the returning prince said, "Hear me, Demacia. I've been gone for a mere two years, but even that is two years too long for your prince to desert his nation. For that, I have no words to excuse myself. Many of you know of my capture during the last major battle against Noxus. I nearly died at the hands of Urgot and my friend, Garen, saved me. I realized then, the true danger to justice is not the sword of another, it is the cowardice of the self. Your prince was afraid. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of death, afraid of leaving this state without an heir. I was not good enough. I had neither the wisdom nor strength nor experience to lead. Before I could right the wrongs of this land, I had to right the wrongs within myself. I've seen many things in my travels. I've fought the greatest beasts Valoran has to offer. Of the twelve who left with me, only two stand before you, but I have made great allies as well. I introduce to you Shyvana and Eniah. Their natures will be made clear in time, but welcome them as my honored guests for as long as they desire. Finally, I am back. I have returned a better man and I pledge now to uphold the justice and virtues of our great city for as long as I live."

Silence. Then a roar that dwarfed the earlier cheers as his proclamation finally sank in. Amidst the uproar, Eniah could see the Garen, for it was undoubtedly he who welcomed them, stand and hug his childhood friend and prince with a barely audiable, "Welcome back, my prince."

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**A/N: This is the first chapter of my first fanfic. Whoooo! :D Please feel free to ask questions or give me any feedback and suggestions. Criticisms are always welcome as well. I decided to begin my story with the end of Jarvan IV's lore and I hope you'll find all details as accurate as possible.**


	2. Chapter 2: The King

Guided into the palace, Eniah was greeted by luxury he'd never seen before. The most gold he'd seen up to that point was in a Shurima nomadic warlord's tent, but even the treasures looted from the ancient tombs of Icathia could not compare to what he saw. Jarvan and the two guards just strolled nonchalantly ahead, all the fine porcelain and gilded shields failing to catch their eyes for even a moment. _So this is what the prince gave up..._ Eniah thought, filled with a newfound respect for the man he'd considered an older brother. Following behind, he could sense a distinct aura of discomfort coming from Shyvana and knowing he was not alone in his awkwardness made him feel a bit less inadequate. As they walked, the Vanguard and his sister formally introduced themselves as Garen and Luxanna Crownguard, son and daughter of the highest ranking noble in Demacia and the prince's childhood friends.

As soon as they were away from the public eye, Luxanna immediately rushed to Shyvana and grasped her horns and hair-like tailpiece. "Oooooooh are those things real? How do you shower with them? Do you need an extra-long bed to sleep? Do your horns prop your head up like a pillow?" she said, barely pausing to stop for breath. "Wait, do you even sleep face up?" She narrowed her eyes and held her hand to her chin as if that was the most valuable question to date. Garen sighed and ducked his head in shame as Jarvan laughed at the half-dragon's distress. "Oh, by the way, tell me about J4's travels." Catching Shyvana's questioning gaze, she quickly added, "J4 is Jarvan because he's technically Jarvan the Fourth. His dad, grandpa, and great grandpa were all named Jarvan. Anyway, has he gotten a girlfriend in the last two years? Are you her?"

This time, it was Jarvan's turn to turn red as Garen snorted in amusement. "E-enough, Luxanna!" Jarvan said. "I haven't been back for ten minutes and you're on about this already. Shyvana is definitely not my girlfriend."

"Psh, fine, J4. But you know your parents are wondering too." She finally turned to Eniah like she just noticed him. "Umm, you're Enya or something... right?"

"... En-i-ah Te-gas, Miss Crownguard," he replied slowly, unsure of how to handle the talkative blonde. "It's a pleasure..."

Thankfully, they came to a stop before two massive cedar doors as they waited for a page to announce them into the king's throne room. Unlike the hallway, the throne room was bare, void of all decorations except the giant, white marble pillars and train of red carpet that lead up to the throne and king. The king himself was an older, grayer version of Jarvan, his hair as much silver as it was dark brown. Eniah was surprised to find that the king wore no jewelry except a small golden circlet encrusted with just three sapphires. Seeing the wonder on the two newcomers' faces, Lux whispered, "the crown, the people, and the nation." This was a stark contrast to the various warlords of the Shurima nomads Eniah had met. They preferred to wear great headdresses made of gold and stacked as high as possible without breaking the wearer's neck to signify their status. _"Those with power know that it is not the absolute good. Power without purpose and humility can only sow despair." _The words of his old master echoed. Finally, the king spoke.

"Welcome back, my sons," he said, making no distinction between Jarvan and the two soldiers. The two involuntarily swelled with pride. _This is how to lead_, thought Eniah. "And you two, Dragonborn and Serigala, do not be alarmed that I know your kind. You are not the first child of dragon and man and I have been down to the southern ridge of the Sablestone Mountains and met your tribe. Are you here as guests of my son? Or do you stand to seek permanent residence in my realm?" His voice carried well in the emptiness of the throne room, its vacancy granting the tone greater weight and dignity.

Jarvan motioned for the two to speak so Shyvana raised her voice. "Sire, I do not speak for Eniah. He is my companion, but he is obliged to no one, not even the prince. As for me, you are correct. I am one of the Dragonborn. My kind is hated by both dragons and humans alike. We are hunted because our existence is an abomination. My father, a dragon, was hunted and killed by his kind for siring me and I sought revenge. I met your son's party and Eniah along the way and we killed the dragon together. His fangs adorn your son's lance now. I owe both of them and If you are willing, I would call Demacia my home."

"And you, Serigala? I presume that is your tribe?"

"Yes, sire. As you say, Serigal is a tribe at the southern end of the Sablestone Mountains, at the crossroads between the Plague and Kumungu Jungles, Shurima Desert, and Bandle City."

"You've come far then. What brings you here?"

"I was born a Serigala but decided to travel for reasons I wish to keep private. I met your son and his soldiers wandering through the Shurima and decided to work together when we became lost in Icathia. Since then, I've followed him across the Great Barrier and met Shyvana."

"I see. And do you wish to become a Demacian?"

"As of now, no, your highness. I do not believe I can maintain such strict moral scrutiny, nor do I entirely agree with your ideals. But as I have no one to return to, I wish to remain here and make myself useful. As long as I stay within your walls, even if I am not Demacian, I will act as you command."

"Very well, thank you both for your trust in me. I do hope that you will find your stay pleasant. I will leave you two to my son's hospitality. For now, leave me so that I might l talk fully with him." The two soldiers left to reunite with their families and Garen left to check on his men, leaving his sister to mind the two visitors and show them to empty rooms in the palace.

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**A/N: This chapter was basically filler, a part of what I imagined Demacia to be like. I tried to place a few background notes into Eniah and Shyvana's past. Hope you like it.**


	3. Chapter 3: The Palace

**A/N: Now, I am back :D I will try my best to upload at least a chapter a week over the summer, though I don't know what the exact schedule will be or how it might change when I go back to college. Again, please feel free to leave comments, suggestions, O/C and pot requests, etc; I promise I will read and consider them all. Thanks for reading and good luck living life... ish...**

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_...Oookaayyyy... Way to ditch me to deal with the fresh meat, _thought Lux, rolling her eyes at Garen's back. With a mental sigh, she turned back to face the two strangers. "So, a Dragonborn and a Serigala, huh. I don't think there's been a Dragonborn in the last few centuries so I got a bit excited when I met you; I'm sorry I was so forward," she said, putting on her best apologetic smile.

"It's fine. It was the first time anyone's ever been so up front with me; most people just run or try to poison my drink so you're golden," Shyvana grinned. "I can't say I'm comfortable with you grabbing my horns though, so please don't do that again."

"Pfff, you're lucky you get off with a warning," Eniah laughed. "Dragons take grasping the horns to be a challenge for a duel."

"...I'll keep that in mind," said Lux.

"Don't worry, Eniah did it on purpose to annoy me after I told him so I burned him bald. I wouldn't do that to you," Shyvana winked.

"Yeah, took me the better part of a year to grow it back," he said, holding up his silver braid.

Lux couldn't help but smile. "Alright, while I do enjoy this conversation and would love to hear about your adventures, let me show you to some empty rooms you can use. They won't be too grand, but you'll get a bed and some food brought to your rooms." After walking a while, she stopped and looked intently at Shyvana. "Umm, do you have any dietary restrictions?"

Shyvana snorted, a wisp of smoke escaping her nose. "I can see why you'd think so, but I'm also half human. It seems I've inherited the ability to digest plant matter from my mother. It's saved me many hungry nights on hunts," she added proudly.

"Actually, I have one," Eniah said. Lux turned to him in surprise. "I can't eat shellfish. I've lived near the Shurima for most of my life so I only found I couldn't stomach them when Jarvan fed me some off the coast of Bandle City. Fish, I don't mind, but please leave out the shellfish."

"Noted."

The three turned a few corners and climbed a few floors as Lux pointed out the servants' wing, cafeteria, and men and women's baths while her guests tried their best to memorize the various locations. They stopped at the first door on the right wing of the third floor.

"Well, Eniah, here we are. This is your room. You will find that there is a bed, desk, and lamp as well as a bathroom and a small shower for your needs. The first meal will be brought to you but please find your way to the mess hall and eat with the others when you are rested. If you prefer to bathe in an open bath, you know where the men's bathhouse is. And of course, the same applies to you, Shyv...ana," she added hurriedly.

"Feel free to call me Shyv," she said, loosing another trail of smoke.

"Ok then, call me Lux please; Luxanna sounds so stuffy." She wrinkled her nose then immediately brightened. "I'll leave you to get settled and show Shyv her room then. I don't think anyone will ask for you today so just relax." Voices fading, Eniah heard her ask, "By the way, do you always smoke when you lau..."

Eniah entered his room and chuckled to himself. _That Lux is an interesting one. Quite a bit different from the prim and proper image I had in mind. She bears a watching out for... _He gave his room a once over, a check for traps, potential weak points, and escape routes that was second nature to him by this time. He noticed the large window that could easily allow three or four men to jump in or out shoulder-to-shoulder and the view of the great white city. A closet of white lacquered wood lay to its left and a pearl coat wrack was bolted by the door. The bathroom was located at one end of the room and the bed at the other. Next to the bed, Eniah found a small stand with Heimerdinger's signature glow-crystal and mini-shelf for bedtime reading. The pearl wallpaper outlined by the blue and gold of Demacia's standard along with a small fireplace in the far corner gave the room an elegant ambiance. _This is what she considers "won't be too grand?" Rich women are scary..._ He opened one of the closet doors and found that someone had stocked the closet with clothes his size. Clearly, he was to dress like the honored guest of a prince. Unclasping his two kris, he leaned them against the stand by his bed and moved to take a shower. A simple dinner of bread, asparagus, and a small roast was waiting for him on the nightstand when he came out and he ate gratefully. For the first time in over two years, Eniah slept without a hand on the hilt.

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"Umm... are you sure this is ok, Shyv?" Lux asked, standing by Eniah's bed.

"Absolutely. After all, it's almost noon and Jarvan should be wondering why his favorite wolf didn't see him for breakfast. Besides, this is a bit of a contest between us," she grinned, baring several abnormally large fangs. As Lux held Eniah's blanket, she swiftly tied a match to his braid and conjured a small flame on her right hand without the slightest incantation. But as she moved to light the match, her target vanished, only to reappear behind Shyvana with one of his kris to her throat.

"Nice try, Shyv. How many times have you failed now?"

"Hmm you were awake? That's too bad," she said, nonchalantly, before slapping his kris away and twisting his other arm behind his back. "Don't get cocky, wolf, Lux blew it this time," she growled.

Turning to the bewildered blonde, Eniah said, "Please stop hanging out with Shyv, Lux. You'll only learn bad things from the fucking lizard." He immediately grunted as Shyvana twisted his arm higher. With a sickening pop, he vanished again and appeared before them, popping his arm back into place. The two stared at each other for a moment then cracked a smile. Dusting himself, he helped Shyvana up. "This is normal, believe it or not. Sorry we're not quite up to your palace customs."

"N-not at all, it was interesting," Lux manged to stammer. _Holy fuck! This is normal to them? As in they normally light each other on fire, pull blades, and dislocate their own arms?_ She sighed mentally again_._

"By the way, Lux, why are you two here?"

"Because Jarvan asked me to wake you and Shyv decided to help."

"Don't you have maids and butlers for this?"

"Perks of being the prince's honored guest," she shrugged. "Be grateful a noble Crownguard has decided to spend her day with one such as yourself," she said in faux accent.

He laughed and grabbed his coat. "And what's on the schedule today, oh beautiful lady?"

"I'll be showing you the rest of the palace, including the sparring grounds, armory, and stables. Then I'll take you around some of the districts in Demacia via warp crystal. I'll explain how they are networked later. For now, let's go get you your breakfast, Mr. Desolate Wolf. How'd you end up with a name like that anyway?"

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**A/N: I like to end chapters in strange/awkward places exactly because it leaves weird cliffhangers. I'm currently trying to write something with good characterization and plot so I hope this isn't moving too slowly for you all. The League will definitely play a role soon and there will be blood. As of now, I know the story doesn't warrant a mature label. It will live up to that record in a few chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Beginning

"Hmm? What? Sorry, Lux. I was somewhere else." He scratched a waving rune into the air that vaguely resembled a beast with its jaws gaping wide. "See, the rune for Serigal, my tribe, is the same for wolf in the ancient texts. I'm called 'Desolate Wolf' because wanderers from my tribe are incredibly rare, especially up the Great Barrier; that, and because I'm really good at fighting."

"Someone's modest. You sure you're good, dog?" Shyvana laughed but there was no venom in her voice.

After a brief brunch for Eniah, the three strolled down to the palace gates and the city beyond. Lux stopped them at what looked like a spiderweb of sapphires embedded into a statue outline of the city.

"Look here, the golden orb is where we are. These warp statues are located at every major square around the city and will let even non-magicians teleport from place to place for convenience. It also makes defending the city easier in case the walls get breached."

"Wait, but wouldn't anyone be able to use these statues to move into the city too?" Shyvana asked.

"Technically yes, but only two houses have the right to sell these warp crystals," she said, holding out blue orbs inscribed with a rune that the Eniah recognized as 'space.' "Us Crownguards and the royal family, Lightshields, are the only families permitted to sell them and their manufacture is strictly regulated. Also, these orbs basically store mana and synchronize with the orbs on the statues to activate a preset spell so they can also run out of mana, which happens every ten to fifteen tries or so, depending on the distance."

Eniah whistled. "Wow, you guys really put a lot of thought into this."

"Of course, we even hired Taric to ask about the various properties of gems. So, we'll be going to the westernmost square, here." She pointed to a small blue orb near the pier. "That area has a lot of shops and restaurants based on seafood along with the main ports. You did say fish was fine right, Eniah?" She winked and held out an orb to each.

"R-right..."

Lux held the sphere to the map, making sure the two runes faced each other, and vanished. Shrugging, the two followed. Eniah could only describe the warp process as watching the world revolve while being torn from that plane of existence, then dropped off at another location while the world slowed to a stop. He involuntarily stumbled and saw Shyvana do the same. People immediately began to crowd around, whispering at the Crownguard crest on Lux's glove. They then noticed the Dragonborn and quickly backtracked to a safer distance.

"You're popular," Shyvana remarked.

"And you're not," Lux said with a giggle.

"Yeah, scales, horns, and grey skin have that effect on most people."

"Don't worry, Shyv, we're not most people," Eniah laughed.

Lux walked on ahead and motioned for them to follow, grateful for the break from her admirers. Walks weren't as fun when you had to stay invisible or take back alleys to keep from being crowed to death. After a brief tour of the various shops selling everything from fishing tackle to seafaring runic almanacs, they were stopped by a curious crowd gathered near the harbor. A flushed constable was busy trying to wave them away with many "Nothing to see"s and "Move along"s to little avail. Behind him, six sailors were dragging damp boxes off of what Lux recognized as a recovery vessel. The cargo held wisps of black smoke and sinister mana, as well as several bullet holes and hack marks. Lux tried to grab the constable's attention but her voice and small stature couldn't quite catch his eye. She looked imploringly at Shyvana. "Please?"

Shyvana rolled her eyes and took in a deep breath. Facing upwards as to not scorch anyone, she loosed a giant stream of fire along with a roar that left most of the crowd on the ground clutching their ears. She looked around with a glare and growled, "Silence," smoke still trailing her mouth. And silence there was. Instantly.

Lux, finally waving her family crest, cleared her throat and spoke, all signs of playfulness and childish charm gone. "All civilians, please forgive my friend but this is a government matter. My name is Luxanna Crownguard, a magician under the direct command of the king. I ask that you calmly leave the area so that I and my colleagues can work in the most beneficial manner for you all. More detailed news of this event shall be relayed to you all once the Council can properly determine the nature of this occasion. Until then, please grant us your patience. Thank you for your cooperation." The crowd dispersed rapidly, most of them still massaging their sore ears while Lux gave them her most radiant smile.

"E-excuse me, Lady Crownguard," the constable approached. "M-my name is Corporal Hughes and I would like to thank you for the help."

"Thank Shyvana, you owe her your gratitude, constable."

"R-right, thank you very much," he said, his smile shrinking by a few teeth as he met her eyes. He backed away slowly as she attempted her best winning grin, fangs and all. He quickly turned back to Lux. "I had no idea that the palace would send someone so quickly. I sent a messenger only two minutes ago."

"Oh no, they did not. Shyvana, Eniah, and I were just out for a leisurely stroll and thought you might require our assistance." Looking over the cargo the crew was dragging ashore, she added, "No doubt Prince Jarvan would like to post me in charge of the analysis of the cargo so if you don't mind, please take it to the forensics lab at the College of Magic." She removed her armband with the Crownguard seal and handed it to him. "Take this and show it to anyone who questions you. They should not hinder the business of the state. Please return the seal to Galio; he should be standing guard at the main gates of the College. He will assist you. Then, you may return to your patrols."

"Y-yes, milady." The constable bowed and walked to the crew to issue orders.

"I'm sorry guys, I guess I'll go tell J4 about his little problem. This stinks of necromancy so it might keep me busy a bit. Can you take the rest of this tour on your own?" She crinkled her nose and began chanting a spell to locate Jarvan.

"Sure, no problem. Tell us if you need help with anything. We both said we'd help in any way we could while we stayed and Eniah is surprisingly good with rune magic," Shyvana replied. Eniah nodded his assent. Lux smiled and vanished in a flash of light.

The two slowly walked back to the statue, trying their best to avoid the cautious stares. "How does Lux do it? She switches her personality constantly. I'd die trying to pull around so much bullshit," said Eniah.

"Agreed. I am a dragon. If anyone has a problem with me, I'd like them to say it."

"Say it, then burn, you mean," he chuckled.

"I would not," she sniffed, trying her best to sound indignant. "Perhaps a bit..."

They saw the familiar sight of the palace gates, the guards moving aside for them as they flashed the prince's seal. Hearing the clang of swords on shields, they grinned and made their way to the sparring grounds. Seeing one of the two men who survived Jarvan's journey, Eniah called out.

"Hey, Caleb, mind if we join you all?"

The veteran turned and grinned at Eniah and somewhat reservedly at Shyvana. "You two are always welcome to me, Wolf and Dragon. I am currently helping Captain Garen train his Vanguard. I believe you've met," he said, pointing to the man who had greeted them at the gates.

"Yes, we met with the king together," Shyvana said. "He seems powerful."

Walking over, Garen again introduced himself. "Please feel free to grab any weapons or armor you see around you. Would you mind accepting challenges from some of my men? They should grow more accustomed to different fighting styles." The two nodded their consent as Garen turned to bark at his men.

Two of his men soon came forward as the rest gathered to watch. "Will you pick up your weapons?" One of the called. Eniah focused his mind and called to his twin kris. They appeared with a shimmering silver light.

Shyvana simply cracked her knuckles and said, "I am a Dragonborn. I require nothing."

"Very well, suit yourselves. This match will end when one yields. Any and all skills are permitted. Is that agreeable, Captain?"

Nodding consent to begin, Garen moved aside as Eniah and one of the soldiers started to circle each other. _Let's not kill him, yeah? Freki, Geri._ He pulled the waving blades from their scabbards. One held an obsidian handle with a reddish metal the men had not seen before. In the same red, the rune for "greed" was inscribed onto the central guard. The other had a marble guard with a faded jade inscription that read "hunger."

One of the men immediately lunged for Eniah, sword positioned for his chest but Geri was already there, the waves of the kris amplifying the vibrations of the clash and forcing the man's wrist to weaken. Eniah took the opportunity to duck, taking a step far out to the side and turning Freki towards the man's hamstrings. His opponent swapped his footing instantly and began to wildly swing his sword with both hands, trying to gain some distance. _So he's that type of fighter... It seems like he'll lose his wits in a real battle__. _Eniah caught the broadsword in both kris, turning it away and dashing to his opponent again.

The man lifted the pommel of his sword to deflect a strike that never came. Eniah instantly sent mana surging through his blades and plunged them into a ground, howling into the setting sun and releasing a shockwave of pure mana that smashed through the man's armor, throwing him to the nearest wall. Many of his spectators were also on the ground, caught unawares by the sudden change in battle tactics. Eniah walked over and helped the man up. "Any and all skills are permitted, right?"

The man grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, that was my fault..."

"Let's move out for Shyvana. It won't take long."

"My friend's better than me, you know."

"Perhaps, but Shyvana isn't as great at holding back."

"You were holding back?" The guard looked surprised.

"Haha, I'd imagine he was," said Caleb stepping beside them. "When we met him in Icathia, the prince had all twelve of us with him. we mistook him for a bandit and attacked, and paid dearly for it. Of the ten that died, six died at the Shurima Desert. Four by him, and the two others because they were so badly maimed from the battle. If the prince hadn't stopped us, our journey may as well have ended there."

"... Thank you for holding back, then," the soldier said gruffly and walked away.

Turning to the battle, they saw Shyvana bat the sword away with the condensed scales on her forearms, the man growing wearier by the second. Finally, looking bored, she encased her arm in fire and struck, tearing through his breastplate and leaving four large burning gashes across his chest. The smell of burnt leather, skin, and flesh filled the air as the soldier screamed in pain. Shyvana looked on guiltily as a stretcher was hurriedly called for.

"Eniah, teach me to hold back more..."

"Done."

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**A/N: Tell me how the battle scene went, though I didn't quite feel like having them kill someone in a sparring match. Wow... I have a lot of time on my hands...**


	5. Chapter 5: Wolves that Hunger

"So, what do you think those bits of cargo we saw at the dock were?" Shyvana asked, making sure to lower her voice.

"No clue, but if I had to take a guess, I'd say whatever boat they came from is long gone. Whoever attacked the Demacian ship, they were very well prepared. You can give any idiot a pistol and he'll do decently, but not a whole lot of people can learn the dead arts." As they pushed open the doors to the mess hall, the room went silent and both let out a tired sigh. "This whole 'Look, a dragon!' thing is getting old."

"Well sorry I'm a dragon," sniffed Shyvana.

"Didn't mean it like that."

"Hehe, yeah, I know. More importantly, you know how you and Jarvan found me close to Noxus?"

"Yes. I believe it was near the tip of the Ironspike Mountains."

"Mmhm. My dad hid us there because no one wants to be between Noxus and Zaun. Other than a few envoys and merchants, we didn't have to worry about being bothered."

"I never understood that about you northerners. I get that Noxus is rather savage, but that's nothing compared to the tribes in the Shurima. Are they really that bad?" At the far end of the hall, several serving maids stood over meats, soups, and other meal items. Walking over, Shyvana wordlessly pointed for an extra large helping of beef. The maid paled and didn't argue.

"Honestly, I have no idea," replied Shyvana. "My father and I just used that fear as a smokescreen, that's all. I do know that they're the only two cities which legalize necromancy. Why do you call it the 'dead arts?'"

They took a seat at the furthest table, away from prying eyes and curious ears. "Where I'm from, the dead arts, or necromancy, I suppose, isn't necessarily a bad thing. It is a way to commune with spirits, both the dead ancestors of our families and the primordial spirits that reign over nature. I know the League banned it, but it's not as if too many officials come down the Great Barrier."

"So you know necromancy?"

"A bit. I was never a master but I talk to the twin spirits in my kris when I'm in serious trouble. You saw me summon them to fight that dragon. If I can summon two legendary wolves, I can summon the dead. The concept isn't that different, as long as the dead haven't moved on from this plane of existence."

"I see. You should let Lux and Jarvan know. You did promise to help after all."

"I will when I see them next." Finishing their meal, the two left the cafeteria to find Jarvan.

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"Welcome, Lady Crownguard," rumbled Galio, his stony form cracking into a sliver of a smile.

"Hey, Galio. I thought I told you to just call me Lux. We are fellow champions after all."

"Yes, you did, Luxanna. You'll have to excuse my stone head." She visibly cringed at the use of her full name. "A certain officer arrived with your seal. He asked to deliver some cargo to the labs for study. It stank of death..." His voice trailed off as he handed back her seal.

"I talked to J4 earlier and it seems I'll be busy again," she sighed. "It looks like necromancy was used so I need to gather evidence and purify the cargo."

"I wish you luck," he said in a rumbling drawl, turning his gaze forward once more in a watch that broke only for the summons of the League.

As usual, she turned heads as she stepped into the college grounds, professors and students alike marveling at the return of such a celebrated alumnus. An old, white haired man waved her over and with a mental groan, she complied.

"Hello, Professor Thorndike," she said in her best politician's smile.

"Miss Luxanna Crownguard, hello. How good of you to visit your old instructor." He vigorously shook her hand as she tried her best to remain cordial. Turning to his current students, he said, "Allow me to introduce you to the sole daughter of the Crownguard house. She is my best student and the youngest woman to graduate from the College of Magic at the tender age of sixteen. I do hope you all will learn from her example."

_There's a damn good reason I rushed to graduate asshole,_ she thought. Seeing the discomfort of his students, she said, "It was a great pleasure, professor, but I am not here for simple pleasantries. I was given an order by Prince Jarvan to analyze and purify the recovered cargo of a Demacian vessel that had gone missing. If you will excuse me, I must attend to the business of the state." With a quick bow and a slip of the tongue so only the students could see, she trotted off to the lab.

* * *

Jarvan sat alone in his chambers, lights dimmed with the subtle flow of music from recordings of a certain Maven of the Strings. He would do this when he had to think and there was much to consider. _Noxus and Zaun... Two constant thorns in my side. Could one of the city states be responsible? It wouldn't be strange for there to be a few rogue necromancers, but how many are strong enough to sink a diplomatic vessel? The DSS Excursion was a mark of peace between the Avarosan and Demacia; how much is it going to cost us to recover? And what of Kalamanda? I'll have to organize a negotiation party there too._ He sighed and slumped forward, allowing himself the briefest respite until he heard a knock at his door.

"Enter." In came Shyvana and Eniah, looking around at the lavish room and seating themselves near the fireplace.

"Is your room always so dark?" Shyvana said.

"Usually no, but I like to think while listening to music."

"Mmm. Sona, right? I think you told us about her sometime."

"Yes. Why are you here?"

"What? Friends can't visit?" quipped Eniah.

"You can, but neither of you are much for idle conversation."

"True. We came to tell you that I can preform necromancy. Apparently, that's a big deal to you."

"W-wait what? You're a necromancer?" Jarvan stood abruptly, throwing his chair to the ground. "Who were you trained by? Noxus? Zaun? When?"

"Calm the fuck down Jarvan," Shyvana growled.

"Let me explain. What you call necromancy is called the dead arts among the Serigala. Necromancy is the art of communing with dead souls, sometimes raising them to do your bidding. Because the Serigala believe that ancient spirits of nature were once beasts and men who rose to near godhood, we make no distinction between the shamanism that lets us commune with our ancestors and natural spirits and the necromancy you know."

"Why haven't you said this before?"

"Since the League doesn't hold much power beyond the Barrier, I never realized it was such a big deal to you northerners. Sure the dead arts can be dangerous and destructive, but so can any other form of magic. I'm no expert, but I can understand basic runes. We were there when Lux picked up the cargo because she was giving us a tour of the pier district."

"So I heard. And do you have something to tell me about them?"

"Only that the more sinister spirits were summoned in the battle. I don't recognize the spirits summoned by Noxus or Zaun, but if you want me to study them, I might pick up something."

"Alright, thank you for telling me. Is there anything else I should know?"

"I suppose you may as well meet them while we're talking about spirits." With that, Eniah closed his eyes, his hands on his kris, as an ominous aura filled the room. He slowly drew his blades as the metal seemed to evaporate, only leaving the rusty red and jade green of the two runes behind. Slowly, the black and white handles distorted to form two wolves with their respective runes marking their foreheads. The tips of their mane and ears were dyed in the same color as their respective runes. Jarvan instinctively stepped back, reaching for his lance. The two wolves merely looked on in amusement and nuzzled Shyvana.

"You saw me call them once before when we chased the dragon."

"You called that technique Last Solace. They weren't just bursts of mana in wolf form then," he said between deep breaths. The air had thickened with the heaviness of despair.

"Meet Freki and Geri; their names mean 'greed' and 'ravenous' respectively. I summon them as a last resort. They are the two chief guardians of my tribe and I am the first in centuries to be able to summon both of them."

"Well met, princeling," the two rumbled. "Until next we meet, beware the spirits." As Eniah focused once more, their shapes distorted back into the mid-sized kris.

"Well, calling them isn't too different from calling a dead soul, since they were technically just really big wolves a couple thousand years ago."

"I see. That's one hell of an introduction."

"So, should I help out?"

"Tell me then; would you be able to purify tainted items? "

"In theory, yes. These two can devour anything, including abstract concepts like souls or impurity, but I think Lux's light magic is better suited to purifying the touch of an evil spirit. If that spirit were still around, it'd be a different story though."

"If that is the case, I'd like you two to join the League of Legends. You don't have to fight for Demacia, but it will give both of you a better idea of the relationship between city states as well as more influence in interstate affairs."

* * *

**A/N: Woot! Finally, the League comes into play. Next time ;) I think my chapters have gotten longer, though I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. Anyways, enjoy.**


	6. Chapter 6: Into the Abyss

Shyvana moved to the crystal lamp and loosed a tongue of fire, infusing the glow crystal with mana and brightening the room. "I meant to ask about that. As I understand it, there hasn't been a major war between Demacia and Noxus for almost twenty years."

"I wouldn't say there's been no conflict," Jarvan chuckled. "Border skirmishes and assassination attempts aren't that uncommon. If anything, both states are holding their ground, building up their forces for when the League finally fails to contain them."

"The League is basically an interstate organization that settles conflicts via gladiatorial matches on something called the Summoner's Rift, right? Why would you want us to join?"

"One, because you're both strong enough to face the greatest champions Valoran has to offer. And two, because having two champions of your caliber allied to Demacia will increase our influence in the League. Three, because you two are battle hungry and having you cooped up here will just ruin our own forces. I heard about what happened to Emmel," he said, giving Shyvana a pointed look as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Fighting someone strong does sound nice for a change," Eniah said. "How many champions are there?"

"Around a hundred. Some are sponsored by states like Demacia and Noxus while others work for their own ends or for different realms like the Shadow Isles or the Void. Champions can fight for anything from honor and personal wealth and power to material gains for their city state. It's ultimately up to you, but I hope to see you on the Rift."

"You're a champion?"

He nodded as he stood and moved to his wardrobe. "So are Garen and Lux, and a handful of other elite Demacians. If you don't mind, I need to go to sleep. I have a meeting with my father and his councilors tomorrow morning and no one brushes off my father. I'll have someone introduce you to the League tomorrow," he said, yawning.

* * *

Eniah woke up to a knock at his door just as the sun's first rays peaked over the horizon. Groggily shuffling to his bathroom, he quickly washed his face and greeted his visitor. "Why the hell are you up, Lux?"

Opening the door, he saw no one and turned to bed in irritation. A sharp "Bwap!" made him turn down. Facing him was the largest eagle he'd ever seen. It was as tall as the middle of his thigh and bore a striking blue plumage that would act as a natural cloak against the sky. He immediately noticed the wickedly curved beak and giant talons and took a step back._ That thing's a hunter... and it... has an owner?_ Surprised at the silver breastplate, he leaned forward to read the bird's name: "Valor."

Valor turned his head to the side with an asserted "Bwap," motioning him to follow with a raised wing. _Either I'm dreaming or I'm taking orders from a damn turkey._ With a sigh, he knelt down and tried to pick up the bird, only to receive a sharp peck and a hefty slap of the wing that sent him on his butt. With an angry squawk, he lifted himself into the air, flying around a corner.

"Valor! Didn't I tell you not to bite the guests?" came the scolding voice of a girl. She turned the corner and looked down at Eniah. "So I assume you tried to pick him up then." Holding out a hand, she tried her best to stifle her laughter, with poor results. Eniah hopped to his feet, staring at the girl who was half a head shorter. She wore a faded, grey leather armor, better for fading into shadows. Her pants faded into thigh length boots of blue fabric and iron shin guards. Her lithe figure and cat like stance betrayed her profession.

"Wouldn't a blue and gold helmet stand out like a sore thumb, ranger?" he grunted, still sour over Valor's antics.

"It does, but let's just say it's my way of giving people a head start." She motioned for him to follow and turned the corner. "Sorry about Valor, by the way. He does whatever he wants and when the prince asked me to show his guests to the League yesterday he got a bit excited. He just flew off to your dorm at first light."

"Apology accepted."

After meeting up with Shyvana, they walked to the warp statue outside just outside of the palace. "The prince asked me to guide you two because Lady Luxanna is busy and Lady Fiora is frankly a cocky bitch."

"Lady who?"

"Lady Fiora Laurent, fellow champion of the League and the one who holds the title as the Grand Duelist. I'm Quinn, by the way. I don't think I've introduced myself. I also have business at the League as a champion so we'll be going together." She handed them black orbs inscribed with silver runes that otherwise looked identical to the ones they used previously. "This will take you to the Institute of War if you use it from any city. However, coming back is a bit more difficult. For the security of each city state, there is a key bearer who prevents teleporting into the city. Of course, the prince is our key bearer."

"Fair enough, let's go."

* * *

_Holy fuck, that's a lot of purple,_ Eniah thought as he stepped through the initial dizziness of warping.

They stood before an amethyst monument just outside of a giant building Quinn introduced as the Institute of War. The Institute was set atop a hill overlooking a makeshift town that had risen up around it to provide for the various needs of the champions and summoners. The 400 flights of stairs were woven with amethyst crystals that floated above and would illuminate the path at night while the marble of the entire structure seemed to have a faded purple hue to it. "That's a really big gate. Is that necessary?" Eniah said, looking above the stairs. The gate was easily four stories tall, made of hextech enhanced steel and magical runes that would help movement and durability. Mostly durability.

Quinn just laughed and stepped up to the watchmen, handing in her champions' badge. "When you meet Cho'Gath, you might want thicker gates." Stepping inside, she turned her guests. "This is where I leave you. I have some business on the Treeline. A minor match, but the prince 'asked' me to take part," she grumbled. "Stick around and someone should welcome you."

They weren't kept waiting long as a boy, no more than twelve, ran through the halls and stopped, panting before them. He introduced himself as Caleb, proudly showing off the faded purple robes of and medallion of an apprentice summoner. Throughout the child's excited introductions, the two just rolled their eyes and followed to the Chamber of Judgment. The doors of the chamber were made of pitch black ebony, a stark contrast to the mystical violet that filled the halls. Barring their way through the door, Caleb turned and spoke, all excitement and jovial charm gone from his voice.

"Ahem, I realize you've both ignored everything I've told you, and that's fine, I don't care. But don't ignore what I am about to tell you, future champions. This is what was truly required of me. The doors you see before you open to the Chamber of Judgment. A League Judgment is an examination of the mind and soul. Your combat abilities are not being tested; the fact that you are here at all is proof enough. Here, you will make known to the world what, or whom, you are truly fighting for. Your goals, ambitions, hopes, and dreams are laid before you. and before the Council This may deepen your convictions or break your mind. Do you wish to continue?"

The two nodded and stepped forward as the ebony doors swung inward, beckoning them into the abyss.

* * *

**AN: Relatively little going on here, a bit busy working on Judgments and other things in life.**


	7. Chapter 7: Shadow of the Heart

Eniah awoke to the humid air of a musty cavern. Picking himself off the dirt floor, he caught his reflection on a red crystal, the planes of the gem making distorted copies of his childhood self. _Where am I? I... wasn't this short before... I'm a child?_ The ten year old Eniah walked through the cavern, stopping before the runic sign that read, "Beware the Devourers." _Well aren't they cheery._ Moving forward, he came upon a shrine, a shrine he recognized as a part of himself, a part of his memory.

_I was about this age when I met the two for the first time, meaning they are showing me a piece of my past. I remember falling down a cave near the tribe oasis. _Acting on his hunch, he backtracked and tried to step through a side cavern, a cavern he did not travel down when he was younger. As he'd suspected, the passage looked exactly the same as the one he'd traveled. Inexplicably, he ended at the same shrine. This time, the two runes distorted to the image of Freki and Geri.

"You are the first, Eniah Tegas, the first to grasp the nature of the Judgment so quickly," rumbled Freki.

"I think your script's off, summoner," he hissed back. "Not quite what I remember."

"Perhaps not, but I think this will be more in line with your experience," Geri replied. The two suddenly lunged at the boy, tackling him to the ground and tearing a shallow gash across his chest and back. Doubling over in pain, Eniah quickly righted himself, running for the shelter of a nearby boulder.

He desperately tried to remember what was required of a Prajurit, of a warrior of the Serigala. Magic and martial arts. Discipline and strength. Wisdom and control. The wolves' padded steps echoed through the cavern, masking their location. _Think Eniah. These are your memories, not theirs. They're in your head, your home. _Then he slowly grinned. There is nothing more valuable to the Serigala Prajurit than the temperence of the mind. For magic, life, and combat, no other virtue came close in utility. _Alright, summoners, let me show you what happens when you cross my mind. You want my memories? Take them._

He slowly rose to meet them, stepping out from behind the boulder. "You have the form of two legends, but you are men. Even as a child, I am more than your match," he taunted. As the wolves lunged, he held both arms out, hiding two runes in his palms, runes that he'd written from the blood on his chest. He screamed as their fangs closed on his limbs, tearing them from their sockets. As the wolves jumped away with an arm in each mouth, the link of mana shattered, releasing the spell within their heads. Still bleeding from his sockets, he staggered forward, a triumphant grin on his face.

"W-what have you done?" The visage of the wolves dissolved to reveal two men, clothed like Caleb, who grasped at their heads in agony.

Eniah grinned. "Welcome to my mind. Welcome to the memory of my soul being shredded piece by piece by the very legends you pretended to be. I told you didn't I? You are men, not spirits." Slowly, to the summoners' horror, his wound closed as each sinew and muscle began to wrap around bones that materialized seemingly out of thin air. A fresh layer of skin coated his new arms as he walked forward. "This is my memory. You gave me that hint and it was enough. I don't remember losing my arms, therefore I did not lose them, then or now. You were not here then. You are intruding, therefore you are my subjects," he growled. He grabbed each of them by the throat, intending to break their minds with the pain until someone spoke behind him.

"Bravo, champion. I think it's safe to say your discipline is unsurpassed, even in the League." A voice came out of the darkness, along with a faint amethyst light that seemed to belong and not belong.

"And you are?"

"My name is High Summoner Reginald Ashram. I am not like my subordinates. I will not make myself vulnerable by plunging my entire being into your thoughts, so this orb of light will have to suffice until we meet face to face."

"And what do you want?"

"To talk. I must say that this Judgment has been different from all the rest. Never has a champion overwhelmed two silver rank summoners. And except for Jax, the Grandmaster at Arms, you are the first to clear the Judgment so quickly. Congratulations. I must ask that you leave my subordinates alive and sound of mind, however."

Throwing them to the ground, he stepped to the light. "I have nothing to say to you. Take your peons and get the fuck out of my head."

"I'm sure they will excuse themselves expediently. However, I cannot leave until I have an answer from you. Why do you fight, Eniah Tegas?"

"Because you're in my fucking head."

"You know what I am asking. Do you fight out of guilt?" Suddenly, the location shifted. He was now outside of the oasis cavern, standing in front of a nondescript house. The house was made of dried mud bricks, humble compared even to the tents of nomads. Peeking through the smashed door was the broken body of Surya, his childhood friend. He ran to her, cradling her head as slivers of bone broke her chest, stopping any chance of breathing. Drenched in blood, he managed to catch the last thing she said, the last thing he remembered. "Is this why you fight? Is this why you ran? Or perhaps this is what you are fighting." Ashram spoke.

"Shut up!" Eniah roared. Calling on every drop of mana in his being, he released the energy into the air, shattering the world around them like a glass mosaic. "Yes! I fight to run! I fight because I couldn't protect her! I fight because I have nowhere I belong. I fight because I have nothing left. I fight because I lost control." Out of the abyss of his mind, the two spirits stirred, appearing before the men.

"And you? Freki? Geri?" Ashram asked. "What are you searching for?"

"We search for what countless souls search for: solace. We fight, because we hunger. This is true of Eniah; this is true of us. Unless you wish to test yourself before us, begone, mortal, your presence annoys us," they rumbled, speaking as much in guttural growls and memories as in actual words.

"Thank you, legends. I believe you are called Semangat?" Turning to Eniah, he said, "Welcome to the League, Desolate Wolf. I hope you find the solace you hunger for."

* * *

Shyvana her eyes to a tower of crimson scales pressing down on her chest. The column ended in five wicked talons the size of scimitars that neatly pinned her to the ground. "Hello, dinner." Rising above, a dragon three stories tall slowly crushed the breath from her lungs.

"Amatel." She attempted to loose a menacing growl, but only managed to cough blood.

**AN: Champion Judgments are always a good way to give background :D Hope that was a bit more entertaining than the latest few chapters. Jax, if you read his lore, has the fastest Judgment on record, with the doors closing and then opening just after. Reginald Ashram is the name of the High Councilor who admitted Jax into the League. Of course, Reginald is the name of pro gamer for Team Solo Mid. Just some fun tidbits for you guys XD** **Review and criticize.****  
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**And yes, I will leave you here because I'm an asshole :P**


	8. Chapter 8: The Dragon's Sorrow

"Look at you, Shyvana," Amatel spat her name, throwing it out like venom on his tongue. "The name of a filthy human for a filthy half breed." She struggled to free herself, only to feel his claws sink deeper, scratching at the edge of her ribs and threatening to break through. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eniah summon his twin wolves while Jarvan conjured his Demacian standard, rallying his men in a flanking charge. Within the second, Freki jumped to Amatel's throat while Geri tackled the dragon's forelimb, the dragon's claws tearing giant gouges through her side as they were knocked aside.

Jarvan and his men attempted to strike from the back, away from Amatel's flaming maw but they were immediately struck down by his tail. Swinging his tail like a vicious mace, Amatel pierced through the soldiers' armor with a sickening squelch of organs being skewered by his spines. Just in time, Jarvan's lance darted out, connecting with his standard and pulling him and two of his men away from the path of the spiked tail. Charging in again, the prince let out a shout as shimmering light surrounded him, the spirits of Demacia's kings forming a golden shield that kept the dragon's claws from splitting his spine. As Amatel's claw glanced off the aegis, Jarvan landed between Shyvana and the larger dragon, encasing them in a great barrier of stone and closing them off from view.

"Jarvan!"

"Prince!"

The men still alive struggled to rise, panting from various wounds. Their lieutenant shouted for them to carry the dead out and treat the wounded, himself barely standing on his sword. The shouts and roars ceased with a final gout of flame and them men waited in anticipation. With a deafening crash, Jarvan's golden armor smashed through the makeshift coliseum, flung forward and landing in a broken mess at the stunned Dragonborn's feet. A searing jet of flame consumed the remaining men as Eniah dodged to the side, his wolves splitting to attack from different directions.

_Dammit Shyvana! Move! You were never this weak. Your father is Savera. He taught you better... Move!_ She desperately looked on as Eniah and the last surviving soldier bravely struggled to at least take Amatel down with them. Fear gripped her heart as she realized it was hopeless. With an impossibly swift snap of his jaws, Amatel cleaved through the last soldier, his entrails splashing across her face. Both Freki and Geri were slowing as Eniah's mana drew near depletion. He fell to his knees, standing between Shyvana and the greater dragon. Amatel loosed one enormous jet of flame, consuming every corpse and the last standing fighter. One by one, the bodies crackled and burned, filling Shyvana's nostrils with the putrid scent of raw flesh blazing to ash. As their bodies burned to coal, the souls of each warrior rose above, standing next to the dragon in phantom bodies of orange flame. Amatel stepped forward.

"You are alone now, half breed. Where is the human will Savera so treasured? Where is your strength?" he gloated. "I will admit that Savera was strong. If he did not protect you, he would have killed me. Even protecting a worthless runt, he injured me. But his blood is lost on a human. It was tainted when he mated with some mortal whore. Look around, all those who professed undying friendship lie in charred ruins. Their souls belong to my flames, child." At that moment, each soul began to quiver, floating forward and lighting even the stones ablaze. "You are worse than nothing. Because of you, their souls will suffer eternal agony within my flames. You are cursed. Now allow me to end your suffering."

She instinctively backed away, stumbling and landing on the burning remains of some soldier's mail. "T-this isn't how it ends," she stammered. "Jarvan and Eniah. They pineed your wings. I-I transformed. I killed you." She had no strength in her voice.. Even the rage that brought on her ascent as a primal elemental faded away, snuffed out by an overwhelming dread. "We weren't supposed to die here! We moved to Demacia and I pledged myself to the king!" she shouted, hot tears streaming from her eyes. Memories of the muddled past merged together, colliding in an unholy kaleidoscope of nightmares. "I-I swore. I swore I would kill you. I swore I would live protecting the humans my father loved!" Amatel's talons reached out, positioned just beneath her jugular. She clenched her jaws, refusing to weaken in her last moments.

As the world turned to blackness, she heard a voice in her mind. "How does it feel to expose your mind, Dragonborn?" Everything clicked as she recalled the blackness of the Chamber of Judgment.

"Come out and I'll show you," she growled, flames igniting her hands as her body was freed from the earlier restraint.

"I'll stay where I am. I welcome you to the League." The voice in her mind vanished and she stood before the black door.

"I see you're out. Took you a while," mocked Eniah. She shot him a glare and he immediately dropped the matter, all too familiar with her fury. He stood with another summoner, this man dressed in a fancier, richer purple with an onyx medallion that seemed to radiate authority. He approached and extended a hand.

"Hello, Shyvana Dragonborn. My name is Reginald Ashram, the High Summoner of the League. Both of you were incredibly swift to pass your Judgments. Congratulations."

She slapped his hand away and dragged her claws across his throat. "Don't ever touch my mind again," she hissed. No threat needed voicing.

To his credit, Ashram shrugged off her claws. "I admit that particular memory may have been... excessive... but it was nothing more than what you agreed to when Caleb briefed you. Regardless, I apologize for encroaching upon the sanctity of your thoughts. And you as well, Desolate Wolf."

Both nodded uncertainly as Ashram bade them farewell, leaving them to the apprentice once more. Caleb turned the corner, ushering them through to their rooms. "Once again, welcome to the League, champions. There is a map in each of your rooms. Make your way to the cafeteria to eat. Champion Shyvana, I am assigned as your guide to the League. Champion Eniah, my colleague, Michael will address your questions tomorrow. Feel free to explore.

**A/N: Chapter was short but I feel like this is a good place to stop (I'm sick of writing). They have finally arrived :D**


	9. Chapter 9: Another New Home

Eniah took a look around his new room surprised at the vacancy of his residence. The room was about the same size as the one Jarvan had lent him at the palace, but lacked all furnishings except a desk and bed. The far wall had a window overlooking what he assumed were the training grounds, a giant open space surrounded by targets and combat golems. He barely noticed the private bathroom and showers before he collapsed into his sheets, too mentally exhausted to consider that it was still barely past midday.

For the first time in days, he awoke by himself and relished the comfort of silence. The sun had just begun to set over the training grounds, lighting his room in a fiery orange. He snatched up the map that was provided and located the cafeteria. Willing his kris to his side, he opened his door and sent a summoner sprawling on the other side.

He quickly moved to help him up, stretching out a hand in apology. "Sory about that. I didn't know I had a visitor," he said.

"N-not at all, sir," the young boy stammered. He looked to be about Caleb's age, perhaps a bit older, though he wore a bronze medallion on his chest. "My name is Michael. High Councilor Ashram asked me to be your guide as long as you need me and I know I was to meet you tomorrow, but I wanted to come introduce myself, sir."

"Fair enough. One thing though." Michael raised his eyebrows. "Stop calling me sir. I'm nineteen."

"What should I..."

"Eniah is fine. Cut the formalities kid. I grew up killing people, not getting fat and drinking tea."

"Yes, si... Eniah..." He sheepishly ducked his head, stepping aside for Eniah.

"Now, I'm hungry so come eat with me, Mike."

"Alright," he said with a much brighter smile than before. "This way." Walking through the halls, he noticed various doors with plaques that marked each room with the names and crests of their owners. One particularly large set of double doors radiated enormous amounts of sealing magic and he couldn't help but ask. "That is the Arcanum Majoris. Well, it's where they operate. They are a group directly under the Council of Legends, the seven highest ranking summoners. One of the Legends each head a major committee and the Arcanum is probably the most important. They deal in magical artifacts, securing and replicating relics and other items for use on the Rift and Treeline."

"I see. How do they find these relics? I don't imagine people are happy to part with them," he asked guardedly.

"That depends on each item. Some are donated by important summoner and noble families or from city states, like the Orb of Winter, it came from the Avarosan I think. Some are the achievements of a champion's genius. I think Viktor made the hextech gunblade and revolver. Or did he just make the gunblade? The revolver might have come from a Zaunite model anyway though. The vast majority of relics are found in remote locations like the Kumungu Jungle, namely by Ezreal, the Grandmaster Explorer of Piltover. And yes, some are bought like the recipe for wards. Does that help?"

"Yes, that was very inclusive. Tell me about summoner ranks."

"How should I put this... Each summoner starts as a novice who spends some time summoning minions and holding turrets during matches. I'll cover those later. After he/she is ready to summon a champion, that summoner is assigned level one and promoted to an apprentice. Experience in matches, coordination with champions, and a good win rate gets you levels. You cap out at level 30 and you are no longer considered an apprentice and are given ten ranking battles. You are assigned to a tier from then on: bronze, silver, gold, platinum, diamond, and legend. Platinum ranked summoners can challenge one of the seven for their position once a year in an event called the Legends' Trial. It's really famous."

"Yes, I think I've heard of it."

"When you hit 30, other than the 10 ranking matches, you are free to settle disputes or take more ranking matches to improve. I'm new so I'm bronze."

"And what's that kid Caleb?"

"He is level 28 so I'd imagine he'll be coming up soon." Michael pushed open a simple birch door, holding it open while Eniah took in the sights of the bustling cafeteria. He saw masses of people dressed like Michael, with an occasionally unique flair of the collar or headpiece. _More summoners, _he guessed. What really caught his eye was the seemingly endless collection of the strangest denizens of Valoran. Members of city states were easy enough to spot; they basically sat together under banners signifying their allegiance. Along the northern end of the cafeteria, a host of mysterious beings gathered, each dining on something different. He spotted a spiked armadillo, white man-lion, and a being of pure blue energy chained in the most enchanted metal he'd ever seen. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't eating, but poring over a glow crystal, trying to siphon energy. Sweeping his arm in a jester's bow, he said, "Welcome, Eniah, Desolate Wolf, to the League of Legends."

Michael took Eniah to the southern end of the hall. Rows and rows of delicacies lined the tables in an endless buffet. Picking up a light meal, he turned to look at the Demacian table. He could only spy a dark haired woman with a giant crossbow and a spearman who looked to be of Ionian descent. Seeing no one he recognized, he followed Michael to a table he assumed held no allegiance. Already sitting there was what appeared to be a mermaid, a minotaur, and a giant green blob. "Hello, everyone. This is Eniah, a new champion of the League. Eniah, I'd like you to meet Nami, Alistar, and Zac. They each fight for their individual reasons without influence from any organization or city state. I thought they'd be the best company for you."

"Hello, Eniah, I am Nami," said the mermaid, her voice splashing like waves from across the table. She smiled and took a bite of what he assumed was fried kelp.

"Alistar," the bull-man said. He was heavily muscled, his purple skin bearing countless scars. Taking a bite out of his lamb chops, he slowly sounded each syllable of his name as if he was moving through tar.

"Um, I don't mean to offend, Alistar, but can I ask you something?" Seeing the bull nod, he continued. "Is it... ok... for you to eat lamb? I get that its not bull but..." The table burst into laughter as Alistar gave him the most bewildered expression.

"Nami eats fish too. Should she stop that as well?" he asked.

"Well, I suppose no-"

"Eniah, do not assume that minotaurs see livestock as cousins. We are a whole new breed: stronger, faster, more intelligent. We can digest meat as well as plant so should we waste the blessings of nature because we look a bit like our food?"

"I'm sorry, I just jumped to conclusions."

"No worries, human, though you are the first to have the courage to ask," he laughed.

Still laughing, the blob identified as Zac extended a tendril of slime towards him in what amounted to be a high five. "Now I have a question for you, Eniah," Zac said. "You gonna eat that pudding?" With an amused snort, he held the pudding out to the sentient blob. Zac slowly engulfed the pudding in his outstretched tendril as the table watched in fascination.

"A jello eating jello... beautiful," muttered Michael, making Nami let out a bubbly giggle.

_How long has it been since I've had idle chatter?_ thought Eniah. As the dinner progressed, he began to feel more and more at home. Pleasantly, no one got up, screamed, or even looked twice at Shyvana's appearance. Eniah waved her over to their table, saving her from the dubious honor of meeting the other Demacians. "There isn't anything wrong with a Demacian sitting here right?" he asked.

With their consent, Shyvana sat down next to Nami and introduced herself. After staring at Alistar for a while, she spoke up. "So Ali-" Alistar snorted as the others laughed and relayed the joke. "Ok, fine since Eniah beat me to it, Nami, can I ask you something?"

"Um... Sure," she said hesitantly.

"You laugh, but can't take the fire huh?" Michael laughed.

"S-shut up! That's not it."

"So, how do you sit on your tail?"

"I don't sit. I'm standing right now, if you call this standing..."

"Fine, but don't you tire? You're a support right?"

"Supports are not weak, Shyvana," Alistar rumbled. "I am a support as well. Bear that in mind before you move to stereotypes."

"Ok, sorry, didn't mean to insult you."

"Besides, feet are strange," Nami sniffed. "A fish's tail is much more muscular than your foot size for size because we use it to swim constantly in every direction. In the water, even when you're resting, you must swim."

"Fair enough."

The conversation died down again until Eniah asked Michael. "So what exactly are matches like? Shyvana mentioned supports right?"

"Oh yes, thank you for reminding me. I assume Caleb briefed you, Shyvana but Eniah still has to hear this." He took a bite out of his cornbread and kept talking. "League matches are conducted like sporting events, for lack of a better comparison. The Rift and the Treeline are the two stadiums, although I expect my superiors to have some designs on the nexuses found in Kalamanda. The Rift is a five on five while the Treeline is a three on three. Each summoner partners with a champion of their choosing and fights through a mental link. The champions can fight as they would in normal battle, though powerful spells surrounding the arena will revive anyone killed. The summoners have the power to lend limited assistance through map vision, certain spells, and gold management. Basically you hit golems that are programmed to fight each other for gold. The gold then is used to provide champions with powerful relics to strengthen them by the summoner. Any leftover gold is given to the champion along with the original summoning fee, and if you won, the victor's prize. That's the gist. Any questions?"

"You're a bit more detailed than Caleb," said Shyvana. "Here's one. Can anyone summon us?"

"Well, no. Each champion is required to fight at least twice a week. The best way to meet your quota is to sign up as a free champion, meaning anyone may summon you. Otherwise, you will be left alone. The quota isn't high because some champions, like Jarvan, must manage the governance of their states. Also, you must volunteer as a free champion at least one week every two months. The other way for you to be summoned is to grant a summoner the right by forging a contract. Some contracts are permanent, meaning they grant absolute control to the summoner while others are restrictive, like always leaving Saturdays free or something. You can also just lend your services to someone for a day or just one match. It's up to you."

"I have one," said Eniah. "What do champions get? I realize some matches are important, but I doubt every match has some global consequence."

"You're right. Summoners need to train just as hard as champions and there are ranking matches to consider as well as matches for display on major holidays. Champions get gold and fame as well as influence in their city states and beyond. You wouldn't believe how much a bit of publicity can get you."

"It gets you a death warrant," said Eniah. "I'm not down for the fame bit."

"It's not just the worship, Eniah," chided Alistar. "I fight equality between humans and all sentient species from yordles to minotaurs to whatever that lion-thing is. Fame can get you influence. Influence gets you power."

"He's right," chimed Nami. "I am looking for the moonstone, an item that my people cannot exist without. The summoners are using their magic to help me find one in exchange for my service here."

"Fair enough," he said. "I don't have anything like that though. I guess I fight because I want to keep myself from losing control.." He trailed off, remembering his Judgment.

"Whatever you fight for, Eniah, you can find it here," Michael said. "Also, you are free to decorate the room as you see fit, or not at all. Go down to Circe, the town here by the way, if you need furniture. You are also free to leave the Institute at any time, as long as you come back for the matches."

Thanking his new friends, Eniah turned back to his room, thinking about his past and his uncertain future.

**A/N: Long chapter... I'm sick of writing... I hope you enjoyed my writing. I think someone asked me for champion interactions. **


	10. Chapter 10: The Proving Grounds

**A/N: Wow... tenth chapter. I honestly didn't think I'd get this far. All things considered, I'm a pretty lazy guy. All hail the miracles of summer boredom :D** **With that said, thank you to everyone who reads this. I started writing because it got lonely and a bit creepy with so many stories swirling inside my freakish head and I thought I'd die if I didn't set one free or something. Knowing people read this makes me feel alive... and not alone in the world... thank you...**

**WTF? JK XD**

**But actually, thanks and hope you like the plot so far. I know it's a pretty slow story but I never intended this to be a short term project. I'm terrible with drama and suspense and marginally better with comedy but let's see how this ends up.**

* * *

Eniah dragged himself out of bed looking like shit and feeling just as confused. _Fuck... This isn't my bed... or my room... Fuck._ Looking around, he saw that the plain brown walls were coated with aluminum, the lustrous metal stenciled with blueprints of what he assumed was an aircraft. The bed was a foot shorter than what he remembered, ending just shy of his ankles. Six inch nails pounded into his head, forcing him to his knees as he tried to sit up. The door opened and a squat, mustached yordle strolled in, barely pausing to jump and punch him across the jaw.

"Well, ya little fuck, had a good night? I had to crash at Teemo's because you passed out in my room, asshole."

"Hey, Corki, good to see you too," he said sheepishly, in no shape to talk back never mind fend off the raging yordle. He gingerly tried to stand once more, barely managing to lock his knees as he led to the bedpost for support. "Calm down, my friend. I honestly don't remember anything about what happened last night. I had dinner with Michael, Nami, Zac, Shyv, and Ali. I left. And I'm blank."

"Of course you don't fucking remember! You took twelve shots of Graggy Ice. Twelve! Fuck, Eniah, even Olaf can't manage that."

"Can you... not yell? Please?" He groaned. "At least tell me how the hell I got in that mess."

Corki chuckled and tossed him a bar of chocolate. "Here. Something sweet always fixes me sooner or later. You were on your way back to the dorm and I stopped you for a drink. Bandle City isn't partial to neither Noxian nor Demacian after all. We had a few drinks, you began telling war stories, and somewhere along the line, Rumble dared you to beat Olaf's record on that Graggy and you, being the universe's supreme achievement of monumental stupidity, accepted."

"Well, fuck. Thanks for letting me bunk here."

"Who the hell said I let you? You just followed me saying some shit like 'I wanna see the metal turkey.'"

"I get it already. I'm sorry, ok? Just let me get sober and I'll get out of your room."

"No time. You have fifteen minutes before your first summoning. Mike told me to let you know."

"What the fuck? You tell me this now?" Eniah got up in panic, trying his best to look semi-presentable.

"He left a note under your door but you were otherwise occupied and I felt like being an ass," grinned Corki.

"Fine, just tell me where I can find wherever I'm supposed to be."

"No need. They'll warp you through."

"Thanks. I owe you, Corki."

Eniah dashed off to the cafeteria, grabbing a breakfast roll and ignoring every greeting sent his way. Doing his best to avoid choking while swallowing as much food as he could manage, he threw some ice water over his head, drawing more than a few disgusted glares from the waitresses and a hearty laugh from Gragas. He hurriedly summoned his kris to his sides as he felt the familiar tug of magic beckoning him through a shimmering dimensional rift.

* * *

He landed a bit after his breakfast did, thankful that no one was around to see him throw up. _I wouldn't say no one_, a voice rang in his thoughts, amplifying the already resounding headache.

_Michael? Wh-_

_I'm in your thoughts, Eniah. I told you about this last night, or did twelve shots of Graggy Ice wipe your memories?_

_Shut up, I'll be fine,_ he growled.

_Ok, so this is the Proving Grounds. It will be a one on one against a current champion to help you grow accustomed to how these matches work. Your objective is to destroy the enemy nexus, the giant crystal behind two turrets. For now, go to the shopkeeper and grab your items; the shopkeeper interacts with the summoner to prepare the requested runes in exchange for the gold you start with._

_Got it_. Eniah turned to the shop and received what appeared to be a medallion of a plain long sword and two red orbs. The sword shifted and shattered into a shimmering outline of itself and was absorbed into his body. he felt a sudden surge of strength as the rune took effect.

_Feels good doesn't it? You just have to be the last thing that hurt a creep before it falls to get the gold so go and freeze lane._

_Got it._ Eniah turned towards the nexus and began jogging to catch up to the line of creeps mindlessly marching for battle. He began to hit each creep as it seemed near death, loping off a head here and there only for their limp shells to turn to droplets of mana and disperse into the air. _Any idea who I'm going against?_

_Where's the surprise in telling you? _

_None, that's the point. It'll keep me alive. _He instinctively headed for the brush, positioning himself to pounce at the first opportunity. As soon as he positioned himself in the brush, a thundering bang resounded through the grounds as his vision went white.

"Well, you get to meet the metal turkey, asshole. Time for some sweet revenge for my room."

_Fuck, I know that voice._

_You don't seem like you just met yesterday._

_The Serigal tribe is near Bandle City remember? Corki used to fly mail and trade goods sometimes._

_Ah, that explains it. You might not want to call that thing a metal turkey though. He might just kill you._

_Isn't that the point?_

_Truth._

Eniah jumped back further to his turret and waited for his vision to clear. "Can't we just agree to kill these creeps or whatever?" he called.

"No fucking way, kiddo. I owe you one. Besides, I can shoot them fine," Corki smirked. As Eniah moved to kill a creep, he shot small missile, that collided with Geri, shattering and breaking through his magical defenses.

_Corki's shells deal some true damage, meaning no shield, mundane or magic, will work. Try not to get hit._

_How the hell do I get gold then?_

_You're going to have to learn to deal with ranged champions sooner or later so consider this practice._

_Isn't a flying death machine illegal or something?_

_Considering he's the only one who can operate it, no. It's considered a unique weapon, just like yours._

_Well, fuck me._

He focused his attention back to Corki, sipping on a potion to rejuvenate some of the lesser hurts. Resolving himself to a do or die rush, he dashed forward, parrying Corki's next shell and piercing through the light hextech armor that coated his plane. Before the ace pilot could react, he crossed his blades together, amplifying the striking power behind them, and brought them down onto the left wing. The hextech armor crumpled like foil, collapsing onto Corki's left arm and trapping his hand against the controls. Corki swore and flipped a switch as his craft hopped into the air, loosing a blazing trail of napalm as he retreated. Eniah noticed that Corki had taken a potion too, and a green aura began to slowly mend damages to his craft.

Giving chase, Eniah dashed through the napalm, relying on his last potion and natural magic guard to protect him from the heat. He still took heavy damage but he parried anther shot, lunging forward and howling to a moon that failed to grace the arena. Corki loosed a barrage of machine gun fire, shredding his armor and forcing him back. Eniah unleashed a surge of mana in response, the shockwave much more powerful than the one he'd used against that Demacian soldier. Corki's plane was thrown for a loop, its damaged wing trying to fight the sudden turbulance. Righting himself, Corki immediately shot out the flash grenade he'd used before, briefly blinding Eniah and buying him much needed vision through the brush his quarry had dashed behind.

Focusing most of his remaining mana, he called Freki and Geri to materialize, sending the twin wolves to dash towards Corki. Just as he'd finished channeling, a massive rocket shot out of the metallic mouth of the plane, colliding with Eniah's chest. He felt an incredible searing pain unlike any burn he'd sustained before or since he'd fought Amatel as his flesh roasted, blood boiled, and burnt away to ash in mere seconds. Beyond the unbearable pain, he heard Michael begin a chant that began to stitch his body back together, mending him back at the magical fountain behind his nexus. While in that near comatose state, he heard the disembodied voice of a female announcer declaring that his turret has been destroyed.

_Wow you got pretty close. I haven't seen any mele champion take him on so early in the match. Try not to chase through the napalm yeah?_

_Noted. That shit hurts... _he grimaced at the memory. Stopping by the shop, he exchanged his long sword rune for a bilgewater cutlass and a handful of potions.

This time, Eniah fought much more cautiously, failing to rise to Corki's taunts. _Once bitten, twice prepared,_ he warned himself. He simply farmed his creeps with brief surges of mana as he waited to prepare another conjuring.

Finally feeling the familiar surge of power from his two wolves, he hopped back to his second tower as to be undisturbed in his casting. Freki and Geri jumped towards the pilot with a thundering roar, throwing off Corki's aim just enough for the next rocket to whiz by Eniah's head. Each of the two wolves shrouded themselves in an aura sustained by Eniah's mana and tore out a wing, dealing heavy damage to Corki. Eniah covered himself with the same power and straining from the burden on his body, warped himself to the wolves' location, landing with a flurry of blows that tore apart Corki's craft and impaled the yordle on both his blades. With an enraged howl, he swung his blades out and apart, halving his opponent.

_Remind me to not make you mad,_ Mike called.

_Can't help it. Last solace is a skill that summons Freki and Geri the way you do to me, except they have a much greater hold on my mind. For the duration, I become just as bloodthirsty._

_Understood. I'll call you back to the fountain now. I think we can take our time farming. He won't be so aggressive anymore._

_Sure. Tell me more about those missiles he shoots off. They hurt like a bitch._

_They fly straight and he can hold up to seven at a time. They only fly straight and when he runs out, he uses a hextech device Heimerdinger made to build new missiles out of mana and materials provided by his summoner._

_How the hell is that legal?_

_Because it takes him a while to build one. If you dodge them he's pretty frail._

_I noticed. Alright, will a bloodthirster and static shiv do?_

_Yes, let's go._

Returning to lane, Eniah felt the extra boost in speed from that rune Michael called a shiv. Corki didn't seem too enthusiastic about trading blows so they calmly farmed.

"So you're a bit like Fiora then, eh?"

"Fiora Laurent? How do you know her?"

"I'm a champion aren't I? She's the bane of every ranged carry like me. Heavy damage, enough armor to shrug off the first few hits range will get you, and an amazing chasing ability. If anything, I'm surprised you know her."

"I don't," Eniah admitted. "I only know her name because Quinn mentioned her. Apparently she's a Demacian noble and quite the bitch," he said, slicing through a larger minion riding a cannon.

Corki laughed as he blew apart Eniah's cannon minion, sending both of them ducking from the flying shrapnel. "Quinn's another ranged carry, though a bit different from me in fighting style, so she'd have plenty of reasons to hate Fiora, especially as they compete from the same city state. I guess it's a bit of a rivalry?"

"Does it matter how many times you die here though?"

_C'mon, Eniah, I told you that yesterday,_ complained Michael. _Champions are picked in ranked play and important matches by how well they perform. More kills means more influence in the League._

_Alright, alright, I get it. _"Why is Fiora a bitch again?" he asked, turning back to Corki.

"Because she acts like one. You'll understand when you meet her, though I'd imagine you have more than just Fiora to watch out for now," he said, chuckling into his mustache. Just as he took the last hit on a creep, he released one of his saved missiles to take down another one he would have missed otherwise.

"Why?"

"Because you're forgetting this is broadcast to anyone who wants to watch. If Fiora, being the vigilant, if a tad bitchy Demacian noble I know she is, happens to be watching this, you just left Quinn on a noose."

"And you?"

"She knows what I call her. It won't matter if I get an earful or two later," he said with a smirk.

"Fuck you. Seriously couldn't tell me this until now?" Eniah hacked at a minion in frustration, sending it sprawling only to have his newly arrived cannon minion take the killing blow.

"Strategy, simple as that."

The match went on in the same manner. They'd kill creeps for the most part until one of them would engage with a missile or a lunge. It ended when, after two runes called infinity edge and phantom dancer, Corki charged forward with his machine gun roaring. His regular attacks got a lot faster, shredding even through the frozen gauntlet that Michael had bought for him with critical strikes that seemed to ring through every part of his body from the impact. Soon after, his nexus exploded in a brilliant flash of blue, signifying his loss.

* * *

**A/N: Wow that was a long chapter, but I had a lot to write. Expect chapter 11 soon since I seriously felt that this part of the story would be too long to put into one chapter. As always, please feel free to review, praise my awesomeness, or crap on some inaccuracy/poor writing. Mainly praise my awesomeness XD**


	11. Chapter 11: Demacian Embassy

Soon after the blue fireworks display, Eniah felt the tug of magic bring him to the Institute where Michael was waiting. "You can be summoned from anywhere in the Institute but you'll generally return to the summoning chamber, here. So, welcome to the summoning chamber, the cocky one is Hazel," he said, pointing at a young brunette summoner walking towards him. Her medallion was positioned as prominently as possible, drawing to the attention that she was a rank higher than Michael. She walked towards them with a smirk and a spring in her steps as Corki hopped off his plane.

"Well, Michael, you remember your wager correct?"

"I do," he sighed.

"Wait a minute. You wagered on my debut match?" Eniah said incredulously.

"This was not your debut match, your debut will be a five on five on the Rift. And yes, we did wager," she sneered. "Michael here bet he could beat me." She turned to Michael as a teasing glint came over her eyes. "Since you lost, you owe me a dare and I dare you to pick a feather from Anivia."

"Are you insane? Anivia will kill me!" he panicked.

"No, she'll just stick you inside a glacier or something."

"And that's better how?"

"It's not, really, but you do get to make a nice sculpture," she laughed. "C'mon, you just have to ask, alright? If she kills you, I'll make sure to write an obituary in the Journal of Justice."

"Aren't we friends? Give me a fucking break, Hazel."

"It's because we're friends that I can do this. I really want a cryophoenix feather. They do look so pretty."

"So... Corki, what's up?" Eniah asked, backing away from the arguing summoners.

"Trying not to get involved in the marriage dispute, that's what," he chuckled.

"Heard that," the two summoners glared. Corki just chuckled and walked out, motioning for Eniah to follow.

_My head still hurts... Fuck Gragas,_ he thought to himself as he tailed Corki.

* * *

"So, looks like you'll be a top lane bruiser," spoke a sentient blob. Just outside the summoning chamber was a hall designed for spectators within the League to cheer on the champions. Waiting for them was Zac, Nami, Shyvana, Alistar, Quinn, and a certain swordswoman. Spying the woman with a dyed red streak in her hair, Corki immediately ran back inside. They heard the revving of his plane's engine and saw him soar out through a large window designed to accommodate bigger champions like Bristle and Cho'Gath.

"Hahaha, he fucking bailed on you, dude," Zac crowed.

The beauty he assumed was Fiora walked confidently towards him, making Quinn scoot back a few steps for personal safety. "Hello, my name is Fiora Laurent, the Grand Duelist and champion of the League. You are quite the impressive swordsman, Desolate Wolf," she said in a deceptively calm voice. Somehow, the sharp accent seemed to add weight and an edge to her words, jabbing at his conscience.

"Uhh... hi. Please call me Eniah, Lady Laurent. I assure you I meant no offense by my earlier actions it's just..."

"It seems my reputation precedes me, Eniah," she growled, still walking towards him with an icy grin plastered across her face.

_If she'd be more docile, she'd be really cute,_ he thought. Out loud, he said, "Uhh, yes, even Corki acknowledges your swordsmanship," he laughed nervously as he backed into a wall. Michael and Hazel stepped out at that moment. Hazel took one look at the two, snorted, and decided to pull up a seat to join the peanut gallery.

"I'm not quite talking about my swordsmanship, though I'd be more than happy to show you."

"W-what I heard were just rumors, I swear."

"And you decide an Institute wide broadcast is the perfect place to discuss these rumors, correct?" she smiled, moving close enough for him to feel her breath.

"No, I wasn't even the one who brought you up," he cried.

"Oh, please don't worry about the furry grease monkey. I promise I will see to him in time. Now, how would you like to pay for this offense, oh honored friend of the prince?"

"I blame the twelve shots?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, I did hear about that from Rumble. Your sword is sharper than your judgment." She leaned closer so only he could hear and whispered, "If you ever, in any circumstance, mention my name again, I will skewer you through your ass and roast you on a fucking spit. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'm," he gulped. He let out a sigh of relief as she pulled away from him and turned to Quinn.

"And you, commoner, come hither," she said with a demonic grin.

Panicked, Quinn shouted, "Valor to me!" With a flurry of azure feathers, Valor beat down on them all, briefly blinding them as she made a swift getaway.

"The best ranger Demacia has to offer and this is how she puts her talents to use," chuckled Shyvana.

"Oh well, the beauty of the League is that I know where you all live," Fiora said, glaring daggers towards Eniah. "Tata." She strolled off, leaving them with the most thinly veiled threat still hanging heavily in the air.

"I'm tired and I want a fucking nap. No one bothers me until dinner," Eniah declared, walking towards his room.

* * *

Four extra hours of sleep did wonders for his hangover, finally dispersing the muddled fog brought on by Gragas' brew. He lazily washed the dregs of sleep from his eyes and headed to the cafeteria, receiving more than a few glares from the waitress from this morning. With what he hoped qualified for an apologetic smile, he grabbed a katsu dish that appealed to him and headed for his familiar circle of friends.

"Hold it," a menacing growl came from behind him, accompanied by an unfriendly rustle of feathers.

"Umm, hi, Quinn. Sor-"

"Sorry? You're sorry? Do you know how hard it is to run from Fiora? You get off with a warning because you're the prince's friend or whatever, but I'm not! She's going to skewer me and it's all you're fault!" she wailed.

"Will she roast you on a spit too?" he asked, amused.

"You have no idea how serious this is," she shuddered. "That woman is a demon incarnate." Seeing the stunned expression on Eniah's face, she immediately dropped her voice. "And I swear," she whispered. "If she's right behind me I'm holding you-"

"Hello, Quinn, it's good to see you getting along with the other Demacians."

She turned around slowly, face to face with the very prince who granted her knighthood. "H-hello, your majesty," she stuttered, a visible blush creeping along her cheeks.

"What's up, J4?" Eniah called.

"One, don't call me your majesty. Two, don't learn from Lux," he sighed. "Three, I think Michael has a few things to explain to you in light of your match on the Proving Grounds. I hear you were... indisposed... towards further knowledge, Eniah," said with a chuckle as Eniah put on his best innocent face.

"Alright, I was on my way to eat with him now. Why are you here?"

"Business. I'll be on my free rotation, but I also had to meet every Demacian champion. I have some orders from my father. You are invited in the strictest confidence, Eniah."

"I'll be there. I do owe you a few favors after all."

"Thank you." He walked towards the Demacian table, Quinn closely following behind.

Eniah made a beeline for Michael and his friends who were accompanied by Hazel and took a seat beside Shyvana. "So I hear you wanted to talk, Mike?"

"Yes there are a few things I need to explain. First, do you know how Corki shredded you so easily towards the end?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. Those missiles hurt."

"It wasn't just Corki you were fighting. It was also his summoner adding her own mana reserves to Corki's that gave an extra boost. Throughout the match, summoners are only permitted two spells to directly interfere in the match, other than the basic recall spell. However, because our minds are linked, we use our own mana reserves to bolster both defense and offense. The better your relationship is with a certain summoner, the better your link is and the more power you will receive."

"It also helps that I'm silver and he's bronze," quipped Hazel.

Ignoring her, Michael continued. "You were so hung over that I just couldn't send much mana your way so make sure you're in your best shape mentally before a match. Summoners do quite a bit more than the occasional spell and map vision."

"Ok, I got it. Is there any place I can go to look up my match times and sign up for a rotation or something?"

"Like I said, you can make a contract with a summoner. You're not obliged to fight as a rotational champion yet, but you can sign up in the main hall. There is a large bulletin there with announcements and a recording tablet for champions who want to fill their quotas."

"Hey, Eniah? I wanted to ask you something that's been bugging me for a while now," said Hazel.

_She's considerably more reserved with anyone but Mike__,_ he noted. "Shoot."

"You teleported right? When you used that skill to summon wolves. How was it done?"

"It's not like I can go wherever I please. Freki and Geri are... bonded... to me. They literally hold slivers of my soul and I hold parts of theirs as well. Because of that, when I let them out, I am tearing a piece of my soul out of my body so it takes quite a toll on my body. On the other hand, I can warp almost instantly to wherever one of these wolves are, because I just need to let my soul call to the rest of my existence. That's how I got behind Corki."

"That... might be a bit overpowered if it didn't have such a large penalty to using it."

"Yeah, is there a rule or something that says I can't warp across the map?"

"No, there are at least a few champions who can attack across the map, but all such skills tend to come with large costs of mana, time, and stamina. Sometimes, the High Council will ban or restrict the repeated use of a certain skill on the Rift because it is almost too powerful. Such champions are kept from becoming too dominant, making sure the powers they represent do not hold an outright hegemony in the League."

"I see. Thank you. Until I find out what I am fighting for, you won't have to worry about that, Hazel."

"Glad to hear it."

* * *

After a relaxing meal, Eniah met up with a still glaring Quinn, dragging a reluctant Shyvana along to the Demacian embassy within the League.

"Are you sure I'm invited? I mean, he didn't say anything about this."

"Of course you are, silly," said Lux, seemingly materializing beside them as they walked. The three jumped back, Valor flying high enough from Quinn's shoulder to earn an unpleasant scrape against the ceiling.

"Why the hell would you do that?" they shouted.

"Because it's fun," Lux giggled. "More importantly, he invited everyone and sent me to find you, Shyv. If he called Eniah, he'd call you. You're the one that actually swore fealty to the king after all. What you are doesn't matter to us." Relief and gratitude washed over Shyvana as her words sank in. The time spent running just so she wouldn't have to kill to defend herself was over.

They stopped at the embassy, a building bearing a giant standard of Demacia and the Lightshield house. The inside was similar to the palace as Eniah remembered it: shinning white marble, golden outlines, and rows of glow crystals that lent the room a warm, welcoming visage. The room was as elegantly bare as the palace with just one great marble table at the center. The table was engraved with a map of Valoran, the domains of every city state marked with their respective hues. At the head of the table, Jarvan stood waiting, along with a very impatient looking woman in red sunglasses with a monstrous crossbow at her back and a man who seemed to be of Ionian descent with a parted spear. "Take a seat, all of you. The rest should join us soon." Quinn looked reproachfully towards Eniah but moved to obey her prince.

Within the minute, four others arrived, a gargoyle with dangerous runes carved into his body, the ever impatient duelist, a blue haired beauty carrying a lyre of some kind, and the captain of the Vanguard. "Now, every champion of Demacia, and one I hope will lend us his strength is here. We have much to discuss and I have need of your powers," Jarvan spoke. Eniah looked around; the table could easily seat thirty people, but the presence of ten of Demacia's greatest filled the room with a solemn aura.

* * *

**A/N: I did say I'd tail the happenings regarding Kalamanda and other major events in the Journal and it's about time I got things back on track. If you didn't catch it, the ten champions from Demacia are J4, Lux, Garen, Xin, Vayne, Fiora, Quinn, Galio, Shyvana, and Sona. Eniah did not swear fealty to the king as Shyvana had and while Vayne just kills anything that is remotely related to the undead, she is originally from Demacia, as is Sona.**

**Recently, I've been looking over some of my chapters and I realized that my grammar and spelling are horrible so please help me edit if you catch something. As always, tell me if something is not up to canon as far as champion lore and events.**

**Yes, I do realize some champions were published much later than a certain event, but I would still use them because they're interesting. Ahem, Quinn.**


	12. Chapter 12: The Meeting

Jarvan loudly cleared his throat and stood. "This meeting is to convey the wishes of my father, the king, and discuss some potential courses of action regarding certain happenings within Valoran." He opened a scroll of parchment and read from its contents. "First order of business: I would like to formally take this time to welcome Shyvana as a Demacian and champion of the League. Your citizenship has been approved." Shyvana lowered her head to the sound of muted clapping, a darker hue of grey coloring her cheeks.

"Wait a moment, prince," said Fiora. Her eyes held a frigidity that made even Jarvan stop. She glared towards Eniah and hissed. "I welcome the dragon, but why is he here?"

"He is here for the same reasons he was in Demacia a few days ago: because he is an honored guest and friend of mine and a powerful ally whose abilities with his shamanic blades are unmatched, perhaps not even by you," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. Grateful for the reprieve from the duelist's icy glare, Eniah sank into his chair, trying to make himself invisible.

"Now, as many of you know, the DSS Excursion has gone missing while it was returning from Freljord. Luxanna did manage to purify the pieces that we recovered but what exactly happened is still a mystery. We do suspect Noxus or Zaun as the Excursion was not a ship some rogue necromancer and a motley crew of pirates could have overwhelmed but we simply have no evidence. Be on guard."

"How do you know it wasn't Nautilus?" Vayne asked. "He is a form of undead, is he not? It wouldn't be strange for him to leave a necromantic trail."

"We've considered that, Night Hunter," said Lux. "Nautilus is indeed an undead, but like Amumu, he has yet to show any signs of hostility without provocation."

Vayne scoffed. "A passive undead doesn't exist, Lady Crownguard. Give them time."

"Perhaps, but we have no reason to suspect him. He is not a necromancer so does not leave trails of mana. The fact that he is undead is irrelevant."

"Then what of the Shadow Isles?" Garen interjected. "The Shadow Isles is far from the coasts of Demacia and Freljord, true, but there are several noteworthy necromancers who call the place home, sister."

"We've also looked into that and have found no motive. The Excursion would never have sailed beyond League sanctioned waters and the Isles are far beyond that borderline sea. Unusual activity from such a powerful magician like Karthus would have immediately alerted the League and us. It was not someone so powerful."

"Fine, so we have no leads," he huffed and sat down.

"The lack of clues is a clue in itself, brother. The perpetrators were not unduly powerful and did not harvest souls since they left no trace of such a high level sorcery. They also did not want the goods they were supposedly pirating since they contaminated them. Rogue magicians would have plundered the ship for money. So we know that they were not from the Shadow Isles, were on a strict mission, and considered goods gifted from the Freljord as worthless trash. For me, only Noxus comes to mind. They've been referring to our neighbors to the north as barbarians for years."

"Thank you, Luxanna, for the briefing, but do not let your suspicions show. We cannot act rashly." Each nodded grimly as they looked at one another. "Moving on, Tryndamere's barbarians have gathered with the Avarosans and Lissandra the Dervish, or Frostguard as she calls herself, has pledged allegiance to Ashe. It seems likely that Freljord may be granted the status of a city state."

"Sir, why might this be a problem?" asked the silent spearman that Eniah recognized as Xin Zhao. "I was under the impression that the Avarosan were our allies."

"They are. Or were. Honestly, I admire Queen Ashe. But even if we are not hostile towards Tryndamere and his tribes, we are not on friendly terms either. Their alliance may bring trouble later on."

"Personally, it's not the Avarosan who trouble me, prince." Quinn sat up to speak, Valor hopping onto the table to stress her point. "As far as I know, the Frostguard, or Dervish or whatever Lissandra calls her tribe, don't really have a reason to submit and she wouldn't bow to Ashe just because she likes her philosophy. By all records, she is a powerful ice mage. It's weird that she would ally with Ashe for seemingly no purpose."

"Agreed. We just don't know enough so here is what I am planning. Quinn, I would like you to go on a scouting expedition. Your mission will be to assess the intentions of the Avarosan and to determine the potential threats of each of the three tribes. I advise you to remain in utmost secrecy and return within the next month. I can provide some excuse to the League as to your absence until then."

"Understood."

"Moreover, I am planning on sending two of you to Kalamanda as members of an embassy to negotiate the private contracting of the nexuses found there. your mission will be the securing of a private contract. If that proves impossible, keep Noxus from the contract as well and encourage public use of the nexuses. Do I have any volunteers?" The room remained in silence. No one cared much for the barrier. Jarvan sighed and pointed towards Garen. "Short of the Lightshield name, the Crownguards stand as the proof of Demacia's sincerity. Since Luxanna is busy with the Excursion affair, you are to go as a diplomat. As for the other, Fiora, please attend."

"W-what? Why?"

"She isn't the most 'diplomatic' of us, my prince," Quinn muttered, cowing down as Fiora shot daggers towards her.

"While that may be true, Fiora is the daughter of the Laurent house. Her presence may provide that extra push needed to secure a favorable contract."

"That, or screw us all," Quinn whispered into Valor's neck feathers, just loud enough for the duelist to hear.

'I'll kill you,' she mouthed, slicing her hand across her neck.

_Please stop, my colleagues. _A soothing melody accompanied the inner voice.

Shyvana and Eniah whirled around, trying to identify the source. The moment Eniah noticed it was a thought and not a sound, he growled to himself, _Freki, sick it._ A portion of his consciousness separated from his mind as the legendary beast followed that same tendril of thought back into the offender's mind, slashing through the mental defenses like paper. A mental shout that rang like thunderclaps in their heads alerted Jarvan to what was going on.

"Enough, Eniah! That is an ally!"

Eniah warily recalled Freki, leaving the consciousness of one he now identified as the busty girl with sea green hair in the corner. She sank to the floor as Lux rushed to comfort her. "I-I'm so sorry. I had no idea what the voice was and I acted on habit."

"That is Sona. As you will find, she is mute. She uses her music and thoughts to communicate," Jarvan explained.

_Th-that's alright, Sir Eniah,_ a stumbling thought trailed out, still clearly shaken from Freki's mental offense.

"Please do not call me 'sir.' And thank you for your forgiveness, Maven of the Strings. I've heard of you from the prince," he said, doing his best to sound cordial.

_As you wish, Eniah. I was careless and forgot that you and Lady Shyvana has yet to meet me in person._

"Do not call me 'lady' either, Maven," Shyvana growled, uncomfortable with a foreign presence in her thoughts.

_Understood._

"Ahem, now please let us return to the point. Since Fiora clearly is reluctant to go to Kalamanda, would you go?" Jarvan asked as he turned to Shyvana.

"M-me? I have no idea how to negotiate."

"I am not asking you to," he said kindly. "Just be as friendly and approachable with their citizens as possible. With any luck, they will find you exotic and our enemies will avoid causing physical conflicts if they know a dragon will be upon them."

"... so I'm a deterrent... That, I know how to do," she grinned.

"Then that's settled. Luxanna will continue investigations into the Excursion, Quinn shall go on an expedition into the Freljord, and Garen and Shyvana shall lead an embassy to Kalamanda. I have just one last thing to mention: it seems that Ionia is calling for a rematch against Noxus."

"Wait, from what I know, Noxus still has eight years of the Ionian occupation left, right?"

"That's correct, Eniah."

"So why should you Demacians interfere? It has nothing to do with you all right? Noxus was stronger during that match, simple as that."

"Honestly, Jarvan," Shyvana called. "I'm inclined to agree with Eniah. It's true that we are ignorant of most of the happenings, but to us, strength is everything. That is what it means to be a hunter and dragons are the greatest hunters of all. If Noxus won this contract through strength, then I feel that it should be honored."

"Then you are beasts, no better than dogs," mocked Vayne.

"Come closer and I'll show you my 'dogs,'" Eniah growled menacingly.

Sona played her etwahl more insistently, not risking another encounter with the wolves with a mental broadcast. As the mood slowly calmed down, Jarvan chided Vayne. "We don't have time to sit here and argue. The contest for Ionia is an issue to Demacia in a material sense because Noxus gained many resources from plundering Ionia. It is of personal interest to me and many others because while the results of the match is definite, it is suspected that Noxus may have tampered with the match. Moreover, Ionia was required to call forth five champions right after joining the League. They had no way of beating the veterans of the Rift."

Eniah remembered his first experience with Corki and acquiesced. "Fine, then I suppose I could understand why a rematch may be in order, but what can Demacia do about it? You all aren't involved."

"Yes, but I would like to send an envoy to Ionia to show our support and to tell them that we would lend them a champion should a match occur. Since Fiora would not go to kalamanda, would you go to Ionia?"

"Why do you insist on picking on me?"

"Because you are a noble."

"So is Vayne."

"She gave up her house when she took the mantle as Night Hunter."

"Wait a moment, J4," Lux interrupted. "Don't send Fio if she doesn't want to go or she might end up stabbing an Ionian monk or something."

"I would nev-" Fiora began, but was immediately interrupted.

"And what do you suggest?"

"Honestly, we shouldn't send a Demacian at all. My brother and I are busy with our own pressing matters and sending a Demacian to Ionia would raise quite a few red flags with Noxus. I know you don't care about that, but Noxus would play off our support as just another show of rivalry and bravado. You can say what you'd like to the press, but we shouldn't send anyone directly. What we need is a champion with no allegiance who somehow heard of the current affairs and decided that his sense of justice would not stand for an unfair occupation... someone you can trust..." Lux slowly turned and looked expectantly at Eniah.

"What? Why me?"

"She has a good point there. True, everyone knows you are my friend, but it's also true that you are not a Demacian. Each city state would be less suspicious of a champion who chooses to act alone. Besides, you just said that you would support them having a rematch. And you did say you owe me one."

"And me, prick. Go in my stead and we're even," Fiora said.

Eniah sighed and resigned himself to a new journey. "I don't have much of a choice do I?" Sona began to play a calming tune directed towards him, trying to ease his mind. _Hey, Sona,_ he called._ If you'd like to speak, please do so._ She physically flinched back from the mental contact, still wary. _They're names are Freki and Geri and they won't hurt you without provocation so please don't run. I'd rather talk than try to figure out what you're saying through music__._ She gingerly made contact and gasped as she felt three consciences within: two that seemed ferocious and deadly and the mind of a boy her age taming their tempers.

_W-well, hello,_ she said shyly. _Please take care of me, Freki and Geri. Eniah, please go. I was born in Ionia and lived in an orphanage there until a woman from Demacia adopted me. I can only do so much as a musician so please help them in my stead. _

_Relax, I said I'd go already,_ he gave a mental laugh and turned to listen to what Jarvan was saying.

"... concludes the end of this meeting. Quinn, set out as soon as possible. I will get the summoners to excuse your absence. Lux, report to me with further findings. Garen and Shyvana, your visit shall be made public immediately. Eniah, please set out soon as well. Galio, send word to my father of our meeting. As for the rest, carry on." With that, he gave a quick salute and left, leading a trail of champions as they each filed out one by one.

* * *

**A/N: So, a list of main champions. Point of View may change during some chapters. Lux is smarter than she acts, huh? XD Didn't want her to be the dumb blonde chick...  
Michael- trying to get a feather from Anivia and praying that she doesn't kill him.  
Garen and Shyvana- off to Kalamanda.  
Lux- preparing further investigations on the Excursion.  
Eniah- off to Ionia. (Mainly did this as a way for him to meet certain champions. I have a thing for Ahri and Lee ;D )  
Quinn- Freljord (As decided by the release patch/lore/forum leaks of Lissandra)**

**I'm honestly not sure if I'll work on pairings. I do plan on it but I'm not positive where I want to go with that yet. Please leave your thoughts. **


	13. Chapter 13: Into the Freljord

**A/N: Oh yeah, if there is a champion whose lore you would like to see mentioned or if there is a storyline you want me to follow as well as Eniah's please let me know. I purposely left some plot divisions in the last chapter for that reason.**

* * *

Michael stood at the warp statue in the central gardens of the Institute, wrapping the thickest cloak he could purchase around himself. Unlike the one in Demacia, this one was made to act as the link between every city and major outpost, not just districts. Due to the vastly increased distance and mana cost, warp crystals could only be used by full fledged summoners and champions, leaving most to walk. _Fuck Hazel,_ he muttered for the sixth time. Since Freljord has yet to be accepted as a city state, there was an outpost garrisoned by League soldiers at its border. Even the hardened soldiers were no fans of the frost and the Winter's Claw was notorious for its hostility to outsiders. Mentally bracing himself for the inevitable chill, he held up his crystal and waited for the pull of magic to beckon him across the gap in space.

* * *

Valor perched atop Quinn's helmet as he looked around the League outpost. Everywhere the two turned, hardy men went about their lives, enduring the day's tasks until they'd be relieved of their posts and freed to another night of drinking. Not one of the men was smiling. Truthfully, Quinn could see why. She proved ill prepared for the cold of the north. Every part of the outpost left her on edge: the barren paths devoid of emotions, the chilling touch of the ice, even the ragged air that bit into her lungs with each breath. As inconspicuously as possible, she paid an Avarosan merchant for a tribal cloak and headed north for the frost archer's main camp. After making a bid of headway, she set camp in a small, hidden grove and after a sparse meal of tacks and dried fish, settled down for the night. Valor softly cooed and nestled into her chest until they heard the muffled trudging of footsteps crushing through fresh landed snow. The azure eagle immediately cocked his head and took flight, the shroud of night doing little to hinder the hunter's vision. Silently, Quinn positioned herself and gripped the handle of her crossbow in anticipation. She closed her eyes and let her ears ferry information of her surroundings. Spying the apparently crumpled body of a passed out traveler, the intruder rushed forward as Quinn rolled to her feet. "Valor, now!"

Almost instantly, Valor fluttered in a storm of quills that struck the intruder, allowing Quinn to dash forward and fire off three bolts that threw the cloaked figure to the ground. Standing above her would be assailant, she put on her coldest glare and stuffed a bolt into his mouth, stifling his shout of alarm. She moved in for a closer look and stumble back. "Why the fuck are you here, Michael?" she yelled.

"Yo, Quinn, you're looking sharp," he smiled sheepishly as he stared nervously at the sharp bolt between his teeth. "No pun intended..."

"Answer the fucking question."

"If you give me a kiss," he laughed. Just noticing how awkward they must look, crimson flooded her cheeks as she rushed off of him. "That works too, I guess. Do you always shoot at strangers?"

"I shoot at people who tail me on missions. Now talk."

"What mission? I don't know anything about whatever Prince Jarvan's making you do, but I'm on a little quest of my own." The two spent the next hour sharing stories of how they each ended up in the god forsaken north.

"Wait, you bet on a complete rookie who was drunk off his ass?" She laughed heartily. "You fucking moron! You totally deserve whatever shit the frozen turkey puts you through."

"Hey, you weren't there to hear High Summoner Ashram talk about his Judgment." Seeing her puzzled look, he continued. "High Summoner Ashram told us he beat two silver ranked summoners during the test. That has never happened. Two were sent instead of one because we heard that he held legendary beasts locked inside his soul or something. He left them gibbering wrecks."

"Seriously?" she sounded impressed. "You couldn't tell considering how stupid he acted. I mean, c'mon, dive a fully farmed Corki with only one bloodthirster?"

"He didn't know and his mind was too muddled for me to help him, but I have a feeling the League might place some restraints on him after he really makes his debut."

"Alright, fine, so Prince Jarvan's friend is a bit more than he seems, but it was still stupid to bet on a rookie."

"True enough. Any idea where Anivia lives? I just know its somewhere in Freljord."

"If I have to guess, she is allied to the Avarosan so she should be nesting near their main camp."

"Ok. Mind if I tag along until then?"

"Yes, I do mind. Anyone traveling with a summoner may as well dress like a circus whore and start dancing down the street. Why do you think I'm wearing an Avarosan cloak, idiot? I'm spying. Now go on you merry fucking way and try not to get killed," she glared, her former annoyance having returned somewhat.

"Fine, I will. You're just pissy 'cause a total amateur snuck up on you," he said in mock pout.

"Whatever, you only found me because of the snow. You're ass better be gone tomorrow or I'll have Valor sick you."

"Oh yeah, about the snow..." Michael quickly whispered a few words and mounds of snow formed to fill their footprints, leaving an indistinguishable replica of the surrounding landscape. Rolling out their sleep gear, the two quickly fell into slumber.

* * *

Morning found the two just outside of what they expected to be a few dozen leather tents scrambled around a makeshift watchtower. "This is the new capital of Freljord," Michael breathed in awe as he beheld what could have passed as a flourishing citadel on par with either Demacia or Noxus. The main camp was lodged into a mountainside, seemingly dug out of the permafrost, a testament to the steadfast resolve of its denizens. On an overhang above the pass stood Ashe's new residence, a towering castle seemingly forged of ice overlooking her new capital.

"So this is Ashe's dream, 'to forge a nation out of the frost,'" Quinn quoted a recent interview the princess had given.

"A tad more than just a dream now."

"This is where we go our separate ways. You go in like every other summoner arriving to congratulate Ashe and Tryndamere's new alliance and I go take care of business."

"Fine but you weren't asked to shoot someone were you?"

She whirled on him, looking genuinely offended. "Say that again and I really will shoot you," she hissed. "I am a ranger, not one of Noxus' assassin dogs."

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry," he said, backing into a naked pine. As he watched Quinn reenter the forest, he made his way to the guards at the gates. Flashing his summoner identification, he swiftly strolled behind the gates as they clanged shut.

* * *

**A/N: First, I apologize for the late update and short chapter. I just moved back into my college and things have been a bit hectic with the first days of class and all. I have this and another story I am trying to balance though this does take priority over the pokemon fanfic so please bear with me. Only the first week of class and already broke my promise to update weekly .**

**As stated, feel free to PM me with a champion/lore you'd like to read about or a viewpoint you'd like me to write from. This is basically my idea of an extended writing project so I do plan on continuing this as much as possible. Thank you for your support.**


	14. Chapter 14: Plans

_So where am I supposed to find Anivia?_ Michael asked himself. _Not like I can just stroll into Ashe's palace and ask for the location of a legendary elemental... or maybe..._ He began to walk purposefully towards the palace, only to have two oversized barbarians block his way. He gave them what he hoped was a winning smile, holding out his chest so his summoner's medallion would have a more prominent place on his visage. "Hello, I'm a summoner of the League, here to congratulate the engagement of your king and queen. Will you let me through?"

"Oh so the little summoner wants to meet the king," a guard sneered. "Get in line like the rest of 'em." The two pointed to a side gate, through which rows of humans and yetis gathered, many of them carrying what he assumed were gifts.

He trekked behind to where a giant yeti stood with a half eaten carcass of an elk. Looking closer, he saw that most were hunted animals of one kind or another. "You sure King Tryndamere'd like another carcass?"

"And why would he not, human? Is it not in your custom to bring food to a feast?"

"I do hear barbarians do require tributes, but are you sure he wants one that's still got your bite marks on it?"

The yeti looked down guiltily and muttered something about getting hungry on the way. "You don't have a gift either, human."

"Yes, I'll have to talk my way out somehow, I suppose." As the line shrank, he stepped into the great hall.

The hall was as he'd expected, a crystal walkway surrounded by different banners of the various barbarian tribes that pledged to Tryndamere. From his limited knowledge of the tribes, he could see that the most numerous and influential of the tribes were permitted to hang their banners closer to the two frozen thrones. Up above the two thrones, Three more banners hung down, the mark of the Avarosan in the middle, the Frostguard to its right, and a blank tapestry for where Ashe no doubt hoped the Winter's Claw would someday lie to its left. On the thrones themselves were the two new monarchs of what would soon be a city state, receiving gifts from their new subjects. To his amusement, he saw a giant pile of meat being carted away as groups of yetis stood proudly by.

"These proceedings bore me," Tryndamere growled, leaning his head on his left arm.

"Try to be patient, dear. They're almost through. I'm not a big fan of these tributes either."

"The king and queen are displeased. Why are we still sitting here?" He rose from his chair as an unfortunate craftsman hurriedly packed his bags, eager to stay out of his new king's notorious tantrums.

"This is a feast, is it not? Anyone with another carcass, go burn it!" he roared. "Anything that isn't booze or meat, leave it 'til later. For now, all dine like kings!" The yetis erupted in bellows as servants moved to obey. Michael saw Ashe visibly sink into her throne, an unusual crimson dying her normally pearl complexion. Under the shadow of her hood, he thought he spied the faintest sliver of a smile.

* * *

Eniah looked around his brief residence at the League and let out a dejected sigh. _Another mission and another journey. Fuck. Why can't Jarvan ask for something simple? "Go to Ionia. Make sure they get their rematch. Encourage friendly relations." Since when the hell am I a diplomat? Why can't I just kill something?_ Ranting to himself, he began to throw his meager possessions into two bags: clothes in one and bare tools in another. Seeing the stark emptiness of his room, he sank onto the League provided bed and allowed his mind to dive in on itself.

_You know, _Freki called. _You don't have to listen. As the human said, you do not belong to Demacia. You are not his subject._

_I know, Freki, but I just can't leave Ionia alone. What Noxus did was wrong._

_Tell me, Eniah Tegas, have you heard of Noxus' story? It is not our place to be the judges of their affairs._ Deep within, he felt another stirring as Geri forced his soul to the forefront of their shared consciousness.

_Perhaps not, but I trust Jarvan._

_And? We wolves are loyal, human, but we are no one's fools. If he is your running mate, you must correct his wrongdoings, even by force._

_And what should I do then? It's not like I can just walk up to some Noxian and ask, "Hey, can you let me into Noxus' private documents?" _

Freki's voice rumbled in his head. _And why not, human? You belong to no one. Wouldn't Noxus be thrilled at having a potential ally? _

_Besides, we are not telling you to trust Noxus, or even that we should ask. Do wolves ask before we take lambs from their herds?_

_Geri! I am not going to break into their archives!_

_Suit yourself then. Howver, remember our words well. Remain skeptical. I for one feel you are more drawn by the lyrical maiden than her cause._ Eniah felt his face heat up at the wolf's comments. _We share the same mind child. We see through your eyes. What is pleasant to you appears pleasant to us as well, even if humans repulsed us not long ago. Our wisdom is yours, as is our strength, but guard your heart well._ With that last warning, both spirits slowly subsided, leaving his consciousness still as the surface of a mountain spring.

Rising, he picked up his bags and headed for the cafeteria for one last warm meal.

* * *

The servers did not question his sour mood, backing away as soon as possible from this odious young man. He moved to the furthest corner, stuffing his mouth with some bread with hopes that it would draw him away from his questions.

"Mind if I join you?" Her voice always reminded him of slapping waves, the coming and going of the tide. When he failed to answer, she plopped herself down next to him and gave him a questioning look. "You haven't even had one official match yet. What's wrong? You don't come off as the nervous type."

"I just have some things on my mind."

"Tell me." He again remained silent. Sighing, she took in a deep breath and stretched her mouth in the largest grin she could manage. "Why so serious?" she sneered, pressing her face inches from his own.

"W-what the fuck, Nami!"

"Hehe, I had a match against Shaco today and he wouldn't stop doing that so I figured I'd try."

"Well, stop it. You're not scary, you just look weird."

"Yeah, but at least your smiling now. Tell me what's wrong." Despite himself, he felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards as he began to relay the details of his new journey. "So, let me get this straight. Prince Jarvan IV wants you to go to Ionia and support a rematch against Noxus as a neutral champion. You're not sure if you should because you don't know the whole story and you ultimately want to help, but don't know if you're helping him make a huge mistake."

"Just about."

"That's simple then," she said brightly. "Just go and find out. Don't take a warp crystal from Irelia, she's Ionia's guardian by the way, just walk to Noxus. From there, I heard you could travel to Noxus's colonies in Ionia by ship. You can check out the state of the people there for yourself then instead of relying on any one sided story."

"I guess, but how do you know so much?"

"I lane a lot with Sivir, the Battle Mistress. She was Noxus' top mercenary until the war against Ionia. She thought the war was stupid and left the Noxian army apparently. She's really not happy about Noxus so I think she'd help you if I ask for you. Should I?"

"Yeah, if you could that'd be great. Thanks, Nami." They ate in silence until he remembered her own dilemma. "Nami, you were looking for a moonstone, right?"

She looked up in shock. "Y-yes! I mean, my people need me. Their survival depends on this stone but no on showed up. I always carry the abyssal pearl, but..." She lifted her chin so Eniah could get a better look at a necklace she was wearing. At the tip, a large pearl, deep, swirling violet instead of the traditional milky white, shone towards him. "Apparently, it can be used by you landwalkers for many magic rituals but can only be found at the deepest ocean trenches. I brought it to trade for a moonstone, but no human appeared."

"And what exactly is a moonstone? I know wolves generally are related to the moon. maybe Freki and Geri can tell us something."

"H-honestly, it looks like a pearl. it's white, shiny, and round. It's not something I can compare to a jewel though. The power it radiates... it makes even the deepest ocean terrors tremble and acts as the Marai's protector against them for one hundred years."

_Know anything, guys?_

_I'm afraid not, Eniah. We cannot help your friend. Perhaps if we could feel what that magical aura felt like, we may be able to trace one._

_I see. Thank you._

"I'm afraid they can't help us. They could potentially trace an aura and help you track one down, but only if they've seen something before. The description is too vague."

"I understand. Honestly, a moonstone is just what we Marai called it. It came from above us and looked like the full moon so we called it moonstone, but it might be something else. I just know that the moonstone comes from the highest heights of the landwalkers' realm."

"The highest place would be Targon..."

"I tried, but Diana is not so friendly."

An idea struck Eniah like thunder. "Wait! Didn't you say it came from on high? As in, just above the landwalkers' realm as well! What about Bandle City?"

"The yordle place?" she looked incredulously at him.

"Yes! I know because my village is near there. Teemo's is the head of the Scouts of the Mothership! Some yordles believe that it came from space, the sky."

Catching on, she looked at him in wonder. "Y-you mean, it's-"

"Yes, if the moonstone really is something with powers from the moon, maybe the yordles studying the mothership from space can tell you something."

"But how am I supposed to get there?"

"Leave that to me," he grinned. For some reason, her gills began to shake and shudder and she absently thought that his smile looked a bit like Shaco's.

* * *

**A/N: The long awaited chapter! Not really, but still... I admit it, I am a big fat liar. I said every week but midterms Q.Q Sorry, and for anyone still reading, thank you again.**

**If you are randomly dipping into this chapter, or if you haven't read this series in a while, you may want to reread the earlier bits a bit. I actually went and reread the series before I started writing again and Gawd my writing is kinda embarrassing XD. Not unbearable, but still...**

**Anyway, as always, my goal is to stay true to the lore set by Riot. If you see any mistakes, please point them out. For that matter, any and all criticism would be appreciated.**

**No longer able to promise any regular update, though I'll try my best. I am a double major in International Relations and Psychology with a minor in Philosophy... Please understand.**


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